Title Thumbnail

Frank Merriwell on the Road: The All-Star Combination

311 pages
Library of Alexandria
“Stop dot tonkey!” Boom-te-boom-te-boom-boom! The bass drummer of the band at the head of “Haley’s All-Star Combination and Mammoth Uncle Tom’s Cabin Company” did not miss a beat when the three “fierce and terrible untamed Siberian bloodhounds” darted between his legs in pursuit of the escaping donkey. But when the fat Dutch lad, who had been leading the donkey, attempted to follow the dogs, there was a catastrophe. The excited Dutch lad struck the drummer squarely, and the drummer uttered a yell of astonishment and terror. Into the air he flew, down he came, and—boom! bang! slam he went through the head of the drum. “Shimminy Gristmas!” The Dutch boy was startled by the havoc, but he quickly recovered and started once more in hot pursuit of dogs and donkey. “Hee-haw! hee-haw!” brayed the donkey, joyously whisking its heels in the air. “Hear dot tonkey laugh!” shouted the Dutch boy. The dogs set up a wild baying, and there was no end of commotion on the street along which the parade had been making its way toward the Thalia Theater. Among the spectators, some of the men laughed, while many of the women screamed and made a scramble to get out of the way of the terrible “bloodhounds.” “Stop dot tonkey!” The pursuing lad waved his short arms wildly in the air, his face flushed with excitement, his eyes bulging from his head. The donkey made for a small fruit and cigar store, seeming bent on rushing straight through the large window where the goods were temptingly displayed. A young man standing near the store placed himself squarely in the path of the little animal, and skillfully caught the dangling halter by which the creature had been led. The donkey halted abruptly, while the dogs came up and leaped around it, still baying. Puffing like a pony engine, the Dutch boy dashed up and grasped the donkey’s tail with both hands, shouting: “Vot der madder vos mit you, ain’d id? I can’t run avay you from uf you vant me to! Now, don’d try any uf my tricks on yourseluf, for uf you do, I vill——Wow!” Up flew the donkey’s heels once more, and the little beast lifted the fat lad and sent him whirling over in the air. The creature had seemed to kick with the force of a pile driver, and he fairly flung the Dutch boy into the air. Down came the lad, plunging headfirst into a garbage barrel that had been standing on the curb, awaiting the arrival of the garbage gatherers. Into the barrel plunged the boy. Fortunately the barrel was not quite half filled. Down he went till he stuck fast, his fat legs kicking wildly in the air. The youth who had stopped the donkey now released the animal and started to extricate the boy from the barrel. A tall, awkward youth, who had been with the parade, forming one of the band, rushed up, brass horn in hand. “Darn my pertaturs!” he shouted, dropping the instrument. “That ’air donkey will be the death of that feller yit!” Then he made a grab at the legs of the lad in the barrel and received a kick behind the ear that knocked him over in a twinkling. He struck in a sitting position on the ground, and there he remained, rubbing his head and looking dazed. The youth who had stopped the donkey succeeded in getting hold of the legs of the unlucky fellow in the barrel, and dragged him out, after upsetting the barrel. By this time everybody on the street was roaring with laughter, and the donkey joined in with a ridiculous “hee-haw.” “There, my friend,” said the rescuer, as he released the lad he had extracted from the barrel, “you are all right now.” The Dutch boy sat up beside his friend who had started to pull him out, and a most wretched spectacle he presented. “Oxcuse me!” he exclaimed, clawing dirt out of his eyes. “I don’t like dot kindt uf peesness!”