Crime Circus

CHAPTER VI SPIES OF THE NIGHT

“TAKE a look around the lot, Stuffy.”

It was Tex Larch who spoke. Stuffy Dowson nodded. He stepped from the office and closed the door behind him. Tex Larch was alone with the two persons who had just entered: Captain Guffy and Lucille Lavan.

“What’s up, Tex?”

Guffy put the question as soon as Stuffy was gone. He knew that Tex wanted privacy to talk some business. Like Tex, Guffy was blunt and to the point.

“Nothing to worry about, Cap,” responded Tex. “Just wanted to talk things over with you. Jonathan Wilbart was in here tonight.”

“Jonathan Wilbart!” The exclamation came from Lucille Lavan.

“Jonathan Wilbart in person,” declared Tex. “Wanted to buy me out. Like he tried to do before.”

“A stubborn fellow, Wilbart is,” commented Cap Guffy. “What did he offer you?”

“We didn’t get that far, Cap. I told him there was no sale. He walked out.”

“You did right, Tex!” put in Lucille. “The nerve of him! After all the years you’ve been in the show business! I would like to have talked with him!”

“He would have liked to talk with you, Lucille,” returned Tex, with a slight smile. “You’re one of the two reasons why he wants my show.”

“You mean he wants me to star with one of his circuses?”

“That’s it, Lucille.”

“Never! I’d quit the show business before I’d work for Jonathan Wilbart!”

“Hm-m.” Cap Guffy was the one who spoke in response to the girl’s outburst. “What do you have against Wilbart, Lucille? I didn’t know you went in for grudges.”

“I don’t.” Lucille pouted wistfully. “I know I’m wrong. I wouldn’t mind Wilbart if he wasn’t trying to buy Tex out. You know how I feel about it, Cap. Tex is — well, he’s been like an uncle to me — and I know what this show means to him. It’s not Wilbart I don’t like — it’s anybody who’d try to take me away from this show.”

“Suppose I should sell out, Lucille?” inquired Tex.

“You wouldn’t,” retorted the girl.

“But suppose I had no dough,” persisted Tex. “Suppose I’d have to fold.”

“You’ll never fold. You’ve got too many friends in the business, Tex. If you really had to find money — well, I’d help raise it for you.”

“I believe you would, Lucille. I know you would. Well — Wilbart’s not buying this outfit. Just the same, it’s not easy to talk him out of trying.”

“Why not, Tex?” inquired Cap Guffy.

“I’LL tell you why,” returned Tex. “Wilbart is a man who goes after business in a big way. He deals fair enough; but he gets what he wants. That’s why he worries me. He wants this show.

“He says he needs Lucille and Wernoff — wants them for star acts. Wants to put them with his other shows. That part’s on the level. But he also says that he would scrap this outfit if he bought it — he didn’t say ‘scrap’; he said ‘absorb’ — but it amounts to the same thing.”

“He probably would.”

“I don’t think so. That’s where he’s trying to bluff me. I think he’d keep on running this show as a small-time outfit. He might build it over and trade on the name of Larch.”

“Maybe you’re right, Tex.”

“Well, that would be his privilege if he bought the show. So he keeps coming around here — and he picks every week that looks like a bloomer. What’s the answer? He knows I’m losing money, Cap. He’s figuring that I’ll have to sell. So pretty soon he’ll get the idea that I don’t want to sell to him. He’ll think I’ve got a grudge against him.”

“Let him think it, Tex.”

“I don’t want to, Cap. If Wilbart thinks that I’m prejudiced against him, he’ll try some other stunt. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“You mean he’ll go after the midway?”

“Right. Those concessions are paying for their privileges. Suppose they hear that they can open with one of Wilbart’s circuses — play better towns and fork over less dough. How long do you think they’d stick with me?”

“I don’t know, Tex.”

“A couple of weeks, maybe. That’s all. What if Wilbart offered to buy your Ten-in-One?”

“I wouldn’t sell it. I’m like you, Tex. I’m sticking in the show business.”

“Suppose, Cap” — Tex eyed the sideshow owner steadily — “suppose I offered to buy your Ten-in-One. Would you sell to me?”

“Not a chance, Tex.”

“Well, suppose you found you had to quit. Would you let me take over the Ten-in-One?”

“I might.”

“That’s all I want to know. Listen, Cap: you’re doing business even if I’m not. These crowds that pass up the big top seem to like the Ten-in-One. They’re bum burgs for a circus, but they’re good spots for a sideshow.”

“It looked that way tonight, Tex.”

“Well — suppose I gave Wilbart the idea that I’d bought out your Ten-in-One. Suppose I told him that what I was losing in the big top, I was making up along the midway. That might make him think a bit.”

“It ought to.”

“All right. Give me an option on the Ten-in-One. I’ll give you a thousand dollars as a deposit. Call it a tentative sale. Date the papers back a couple of weeks. We’ll put you down in the pay book as sideshow manager, on a salary.”

“I get the idea, Tex. You’ll make Wilbart think that you were bringing in the green before he came around to make his offer. Then he’ll watch the business at the Ten-in-One. Figuring that you shoved out dough to buy it, he’ll think that you’re taking in the gravy all along.”

“That’s it. What’s more, Cap, he won’t try to buy you out. The option will scare him off.”

“Are you going to work the same gag with other people on the midway?”

“Not with the concessions; but maybe with the rides. I think they’ll help me out. They’re doing pretty fair business. If Wilbart thinks I’m buying up the whole outfit, he’s liable to pull in his horns. At least, he will think there is a good reason when I refuse his offer.”

“All right, Tex.” Cap stared stolidly at the circus owner. “I’ll think it over. But remember — I’m keeping my Ten-in-One. It means as much to me as the big top does to you. If all you’re trying to do is cover up the real reason why you won’t sell out to Wilbart, I’ll stick by you.”

“Wait a minute, Cap.” Tex’s voice was hard as Guffy stepped toward the door. “Get this straight. The reason I won’t sell is because I belong in the show business. That’s all.”

“Did I say anything else?” quizzed Guffy, from the door.

“No,” admitted Tex, “but it didn’t sound so good — the way you spoke. Maybe I could ask why you’re so stubborn about hanging on to that sideshow of yours.”

“It’s bringing me the dough, ain’t it?”

“It ought to, with that cheap bunch of freaks you’re carrying.”

Guffy’s fists tightened. Lucille stepped in to prevent an altercation. Tex had risen in challenging fashion; the girl motioned the circus owner back to his seat. She turned to the door.

“Run along, Cap,” she said to Guffy. “Put the freaks to bed and see that the rattlers are tied up for the night. There’s no use in you and Tex acting like a couple of punks.”

“All right, Lucille.” Guffy stared hard at Tex as he spoke. “I’ll forget it. Guess there ain’t no use in being touchy. I’m minding my business. I guess Tex can manage his.”

“GUFFY’S hard to figure out sometimes,” growled Tex, as the door closed behind Cap. “If he’s so independent, why don’t he buy up a few shows and go out on his own? He’s socked away some dough, to hear him talk. What does he want to travel along with me for, if he could be the big shot of his own outfit?”

“Cap likes to bluff, Tex,” decided the girl. “He always acted like he had money, even when you knew he didn’t have a dime. You remember when he first joined us.”

“Yeah.” Tex nodded. “I liked him because he minded his own business and didn’t butt into mine. He was the first sideshow man that was satisfied to run his own top. Maybe it was time I cut him loose. I wonder—”

“What?” questioned Lucille.

“Well” — Tex was speculative — “I ain’t just satisfied with the way things are going on the lot. Cap Guffy may be getting too important.”

“You’ve been leaving the show too often, Tex.”

“Stuffy’s here, ain’t he?”

“Yes; but he isn’t important enough.”

“He would be, if Cap Guffy wasn’t around. That’s the trouble with promoting a fellow like Stuffy. The gang don’t recognize him like they should.”

“Why not hire a new general agent?”

“Maybe that would do.” Tex nodded, then shook his head. “I guess I’ll have to let things slide along, Lucille. The season’s pretty well through. I’ll make out until we close. Cap will get over his huff—”

Tex paused suddenly as he heard a slight scruffing sound outside the office car. He shot a look at Lucille; then sprang to the door. He called to a pair of roughnecks who were passing.

“See who’s sneaking around here,” ordered Tex. “Move lively, you fellows.”

“O.K., boss.”

The roughnecks — hard-faced fellows — sprang into the darkness beside the trailer. Tex stepped back into the office to find Lucille standing beside the little window between the front desks.

“Any one there?” quizzed Tex.

“I don’t think so,” replied Lucille. “The glass is out of this window, though. Somebody could have been listening to our talk.”

“Sounded like a snooper coming up,” declared Tex. “We would have heard him climbing out of the truck if he’d been there at the window. No — I don’t think anybody was listening in. Come on. We’ll see who the roughnecks scared up.”

THE two men whom Tex had despatched for a search had reached the front of the truck while the circus owner was talking to Lucille. There, in the darkness, they had encountered a human form. One brawny, bare-armed ruffian was clutching a crouching figure while the other turned a flashlight on the pair.

“Say!” The exclamation came from the roughneck who had made the capture. “It’s Jubo the Geek! What’re you doin’ here, Jubo?”

Jubo was showing his teeth in a fierce grin. His eyes glared downward toward the arm of his captor. The geek gave a grunt as he saw a red circle tattooed above the roughneck’s wrist.

Wriggling his own hands free, Jubo pulled up the left sleeve of his black jersey. His captors exchanged stifled utterances as they saw the same symbol on the geek’s forearm. Jubo was obviously a member of their band.

“Scram,” growled the man with the light.

Jubo nodded. As the other roughneck released him, the geek slunk off into the darkness. The two roughnecks turned and walked back toward the trailer. A flashlight blinked in front of them. It was Tex, coming from the office.

“Who was it?” growled the circus owner.

“We didn’t find nobody,” growled the roughneck with the light. “Guess maybe it was just some guy cuttin’ through by the office.”

“All right,” nodded Tex.

The three men moved away.

Gloom persisted beside the truck. Then, from the darkness of the vehicle came a swishing shape. A spectral figure reached the ground and stood silently against the darkened side of the office trailer.

Staring toward the glow of the midway, sharp eyes saw a stalwart figure moving past the steps of the office. It was Cliff Marsland, heading for town to send his report to The Shadow.

A soft, sinister whisper sounded beside the trailer. From his vantage point in the rear of the truck, this invisible watcher had heard the conversation in the office. He had seen Jubo the Geek prowling by the truck; he had witnessed the encounter between the mobsters who passed as roughnecks and the slinking wild man whom they had captured and let go.

Weirdly, a spectral shape moved forth into the darkness. Again, a whispered laugh was confined to a small area. That laugh was a token which none but its author heard. Yet it symbolized strange understanding.

The Shadow had not waited to hear from Cliff Marsland. He had followed his agent to the town of Marlborough. Like a phantom of the night, he had come to the circus grounds to begin a secret investigation of his own.

The Shadow had listened. The Shadow had watched. Already he had formed conclusions to carry him along the trail of crime!