His heart was so full of sorrow that his greatest desire was to go where those who might believe he had been a partner of the burglars could not see him; but since that was impossible, if he intended to obey the deacon's injunctions and present himself at the grand stand at the specified time, the next best thing was to remain behind the booth where his mother tried her best to cheer him.

"It can't be possible that anything to your disadvantage has occurred, Teddy," she said as she held his hand for mutual sympathy. "Mr. Reaves would have sent me word at once if that had happened."

"Perhaps he doesn't know about it. Uncle Nathan may have been talking with the deacon again, an' turned him against me."

"I don't believe it would be possible for him to do such a thing. His reputation is not so good that people could put faith in all he says, more especially in regard to this case."

"Then if he didn't do it some one else has, an' that makes it all the worse," Teddy replied, as he tried to force back the tears.

At this moment the sorrowing ones were startled by hearing the voice of the man whom they had every reason to call their enemy, and an instant later Uncle Nathan stood before them.

"Well," he said in what sounded more like a snarl than anything else, "you see the old skinflint did jest what he promised, an' he'll see to it that the deacon don't stay on your bail very long unless I get my rights."

"What do you mean by your rights?" Mrs. Hargreaves asked.

"I lent this ungrateful boy the money to start him in a business where he's made more in a week than I ever could in a year. Then he helped people to rob me, an' after all that I made what any man must call a fair offer. See how much I've lost by him, an' then think of my offerin' to straighten everything out by goin' in as his partner."

"Why didn't you do this before the fair opened?"

"I couldn't tell how it would turn out," the old man began, and then realizing that he was admitting something to his discredit, he added, quickly, "I mean I hadn't lost my money then, an' never suspected how he would wrong me."

It seemed as if these last words drove Teddy to desperation, and he no longer-remembered the respect due to age.

"Look here," he cried, angrily, rising, and standing directly in front of Uncle Nathan, "if you believe I'm a burglar, you can't want to be my partner. It was only after the fact of my having made considerable money was known that you offered any trade. If the venture had been a losing one you are the last person who would have taken hold of it. Now I'm under arrest on a charge made by you, who know I am innocent, an' we'll put an end to all this talk. Don't come where my mother and I am; do the very worst you can, an' some day I'll have my innings."

"You threaten, eh?"

"That's exactly what I'm doing. I have leased this piece of ground until to-morrow, and warn you that it'll be mighty uncomfortable if you show your nose here again. Go now an' go quick!"

"That's right, Teddy," Tim shouted in a tone of delight from the opposite side of the booth. "Give it to him hot, an' I'll do my share. If you don't want to tackle the job till after the trial, say the word an' I'll sail in, for it gives me a pain to see him around."

Teddy made no reply to this generous offer; but Uncle Nathan stepped back very quickly as if fearing an immediate attack.

"You won't be so bold to-morrow," he snarled, shaking his fist in impotent rage, and then he disappeared from view amid the crowd that had begun to gather.

Both Teddy and his clerk thought it very singular that business should be so good on this day, when the majority of the other fakirs were comparatively idle, and also in view of what had been said against the proprietor of the cane-board.

Yet the people gathered around by scores, all intent on patronizing the boys, and at the same time embracing every opportunity to display their good will.

Teddy and his mother remained partially screened from the gaze of the curious until nearly two o'clock, when Dan, looking decidedly troubled, arrived.

"I suppose we've got to go to the grand stand an' find out what the deacon wants," he said, mournfully. "My boss told me that we must be there on time, an' we might as well start."

"I want to have it over as soon as possible," Teddy replied. "Nothin' that comes can be any worse than waitin' here thinkin' of what may happen."

The two boys walked either side of Mrs. Hargreaves as they went to meet the deacon, and it seemed very much as if the majority of the people present knew what was about to occur, for the sad-visaged party was followed by crowds of the visitors as they walked steadily onward.

It was exactly two o'clock when they arrived at the stairway leading to the grand stand, and there they were met by the leader of the band from the Run, who said with a mysterious manner as he opened a gate leading to the track in front of the judges' stand:

"You are to come this way."

"Where's the deacon?" Teddy asked.

"Waiting for you."

Without further explanation the musician led the three to a spot where all could see them, and to the intense surprise of the sorrowful-looking party, the throng assembled on the benches greeted them with the most hearty applause.

"You are to come with me, Mrs. Hargreaves," the conductor said, as he escorted her to one of the front seats, and Teddy and Dan stood as if stupefied, gazing in dismay at the sea of faces in front of them.

Before the boys had sufficiently recovered from their bewilderment to be able to speculate upon what was to happen Deacon Jones came down the steps until he reached a place where all could see him and there began a speech which caused at least two of that assemblage to gaze at him in open-mouthed astonishment.

The manager of the fair did not intend to neglect any opportunity of making himself conspicuous, and he delivered an eloquent address, looking first at the boys and then at the audience, which cannot be given here because of lack of space.

He first explained to the spectators that Teddy had taken upon himself the business of fakir simply that he might aid his widowed mother. Then he detailed the loss of the fifteen dollars, and finally broached the one important matter, that of the scene on the creek, when the three women were rescued from drowning.

By this time the cheeks of Teddy and Dan were flaming red, and if he had been charging them with the most atrocious crimes they could not have looked more guilty or uncomfortable.

"As you all know," he said, in conclusion, "we have met here to see bravery and a spirit of self-sacrifice rewarded. On behalf of the ladies whose lives were saved by these little heroes I am about to present Edward Hargreaves and Daniel Summers with one hundred dollars each. In addition to that amount the managers of the fair and several gentlemen who do not care to have their names made public, have made up a purse of one hundred and eighty dollars to be divided equally between them. It is most gratifying to me that I have been selected as the instrument through whom this testimonial is presented, and in behalf of my brother officers as well as myself I will state that these brave boys have the freedom of the grounds whenever the Peach Bottom fair is open."

As he concluded, the deacon walked with a majestic bearing down to the bewildered boys, presented each with a well-filled pocketbook and then waved his hand as a signal for the band, every member of which did his best to make the music heard above the rounds of applause intended for the blushing fakirs.

In the meantime the people came down from the benches to congratulate the life-savers, and for fully an hour the two were forced to remain there listening to words of praise which they felt were not warranted by their exploit on the creek.

Among the most welcome of these enthusiastic visitors was Jacob Sweet, and he said, heartily:

"I heard of this little performance jest in time to get here before that long-winded speech was begun; but what pleases me the most is that I was ahead of the whole gang, an' started our little blow-out when it wasn't known you had so many friends. I'll see you to-night, of course, an' I must go now, for the bouncer has been around tellin' that you've been sleepin' in my tent, an' I count on a good payin' crowd this afternoon."

It was considerably past three o'clock when the boys and Mrs. Hargreaves returned to the cane-board, looking very much different than when they left it, and Tim cried as they came up:

"I've heard all about it, an' what I want to know is, where was old Nathan while that speechifyin' was goin' on?"

"I saw him when we first arrived," Mrs. Hargreaves replied, "but he left a few moments later, although I have no doubt that he remained where he could hear all that was said without being seen."

"That's where he was wise. It wouldn't be very pleasant for him to show himself now, 'cause everybody is down on him after what the deacon said."

Dan was obliged to return to his duties, and he whispered to Teddy before leaving:

"I tell you what it is, old feller, this has been a reg'lar puddin' for us, an' I'd give a good deal to see another jest like it."

"You're all right, but I expect after this Uncle Nathan will be so mad he'll make me a pile of trouble."

"Don't worry about that; his claws are cut now. I'll be back in time to go to supper."

When he departed Teddy had an opportunity to say a few words to his mother before she returned home on the stage, which was advertised to leave at four o'clock, and while he did this all thought of being under arrest was put far from his mind because of the joy at what he was now able to perform.

"Never mind what happens to me," he whispered. "I've now got nearly money enough to pay off all we owe, an' it has been earned honestly, too, although I believe they paid a big price for what Dan an' I did on the creek."

"I'm thinking more of the praise you earned than the money, Teddy. It was very sweet to hear the deacon say so much to you before all those people."

"Then both of us will be awfully jolly to-night, an' to-morrow I'll be home, an' bring Dan with me."

"Invite him to stay just as long as he wishes, and I will have a nice supper ready when the last stage arrives."

Teddy gave his mother nearly all the money he had, including the "testimonial," and as she walked away he said to Tim:

"I'm willin' to be arrested, an' put into jail a good many days for the sake of being able to help her as I can do now."

CHAPTER XXX.
THE TRIAL

It was only natural that both Teddy and Dan should feel highly elated after this public expression of admiration which culminated in the presentation of the purse, but they immediately returned to attend to their several duties when the ceremonies were finished.

Dan went back to the exhibition as if he had done nothing worth remembering, and in less than half an hour from the time the deacon concluded his flowery speech it would have required a very ardent student of humanity to discover that anything out of the natural course of events had taken place.

At the cane-board Teddy waited upon his customers as before, and without the slightest sign of having been honored by the magnates of the fair, while Dan fired at the target as if he had been a boy with no other claim upon the public's attention than his ability to hit a mark.

Yet it must be confessed that both experienced a very pleasing sense of having satisfied the public, and each, in his own peculiar way, knew he had risen a little above the average boy.

There can be no question that any one placed in the same position must have felt gratified by the many expressions of friendship and good-will with which these two were literally overwhelmed, and it would have been more than could be expected of human nature had they remained unmoved under the extravagant flattery which was showered upon them immediately after the close of Deacon Jones' speech.

Although there was not quite as much money flowing into the box as on the day previous, Teddy was more than pleased with the receipts, because every penny seemed to express just such an amount of good-will.

Until nearly nightfall he remained at the booth, answering questions upon the same subject till it seemed to have been worn threadbare, and then, however great his desire to earn money, he felt a positive sense of relief that his connection with the Peach Bottom fair had finally come to an end.

"This is the last time you an' I will pack up the stuff," he said to Tim as they put into condition for removal the cane and knife boards. "I promised to give you all that was left, and you're more than welcome to it."

"But you surely don't mean to give me the whole lot," Tim cried in surprise.

"That's exactly what I'm going to do, and I sincerely hope when you make a stand you'll meet with the same good friends I have here."

"I can't take these things unless you'll allow me to pay something toward what they cost."

"Look here, Tim," Teddy said, earnestly, "you have shown yourself to be a friend of mine, an' every cent that has come in here you've accounted for. Now, whatever may happen, I'm through bein' a fakir; but if you want to follow the business, I can only hope you'll come out all right. We'll carry this to Mr. Sweet's tent, an' I'll only be so much the better pleased, and in case you don't, I'm bound to help you in every way. Besides, I promised to pay a certain percentage on the profits; that is yet to be settled."

"It never will be," Tim replied in the most decided tone. "If I take these goods I've got more than a fair share, an' won't listen to anything else."

"Very well, we'll leave it that way. You now own everything, an' I owe you lots of good-will."

On this basis the remnants of the two boards were packed up for removal, and when they were about to take the goods to Mr. Sweet's tent Dan arrived.

"How much business did you do to-day?" he asked.

Teddy delayed sufficiently long to count the receipts, and then replied:

"Forty-one dollars and fifteen cents. That gives Tim four-eleven, an' I get more than would have been the case but for the testimonial this afternoon. The folks crowded around to see me, rather than to get the canes, an' so business has picked up better than any one expected."

"It don't make any difference how the money came in so long as you have got it," Dan replied, philosophically, "an' now the question is what are we to do for supper, since we paid our bill at the boarding-house this afternoon?"

"Have you got any idea?"

"Of course, or else I wouldn't have asked the question. Let's invite Mr. Sweet, the bouncer, and the clown to some restaurant down town, an' try to give them as good a time as we had last night."

This proposition met with Teddy's approval, and the party was made up as he suggested, the cost being divided between the two boys who had been the recipients of the public testimonial.

Not until a late hour in the evening did these festivities come to an end, and then the party retired to the museum tent, where they remained undisturbed until the present season of the Peach Bottom fair had come to an end.

It was an unusually late hour for fakirs to arise when Mr. Sweet awakened the boys as he said:

"Turn out now, lads, an' get your stuff ready for removal. I'm sorry to part company, but we can't stay here forever, an' the museum must be forty miles the other side of Waterville by Monday morning."

Dan had completed and been paid for his work with the Stevens Company, therefore he had nothing to do; Teddy no longer claimed any interest in the canes and knives left over from the week's work; consequently he was free to go where he pleased, and Tim had his goods in such a condition that they could be removed at any moment, which prevented him from feeling any anxiety regarding the future.

Thus it was that all three of the boys were at liberty to assist the proprietor of the museum, and this they did with a will until the arrival of Lawyer Harvey caused them to think of what had almost been forgotten in the bustle and confusion of breaking camp.

"We are due at the 'Squire's office at nine o'clock, and it is time you boys were getting over that way," he said, briskly; "our case won't come up to-day, but it has been decided to give Hazelton a hearing, and I am very much afraid he's going to get the worst of it."

"What do you mean?" Teddy asked, anxiously.

"Well, you see I have not been able to get any information in addition to what you boys furnished, and there seems little doubt that the 'Squire must perforce bind him over for trial. The fact that he has deliberately swindled so many people will work against him, and we can do very little to save him."

"What will be the result of his being bound over?" Teddy asked.

"He must remain in jail, unless he can get bail, until next fall."

"But that in itself will be a terrible punishment."

"True; yet it cannot be avoided. If he had worked honestly the case would be different; but now he will be fortunate even to get out in the fall."

"Yet Uncle Nathan says I am equally guilty."

"We can easily show you had nothing to do with the robbery, and that is our only care this morning."

"What about Long Jim?"

"He remains silent, refusing to answer the simplest questions, and unless he speaks Hazelton must be bound over; the 'Squire can pursue no other course."

Believing as they did that Hazelton was innocent of the charge upon which he had been arrested, both Teddy and Dan felt it was a great hardship for the fakir to remain so long in prison; but since it was beyond their power to give him any relief, neither expressed an opinion other than has been recorded.

Mr. Harvey had come for them to accompany him to the Squire's office, and since there was nothing to detain them they set out, after first bidding Mr. Sweet a cordial 'goodby, for he had announced his intention of leaving Peach Bottom on the noon train.

"I shall see one or both of you at some time in the future," he said, with considerable feeling, "an' there'll be no complaint to make if I never fall in with worse boys."

The bouncer and the clown also had something to say in the form of an adieu, and when the boys left the proprietor of the alleged wonderful museum it was like parting with an old friend, for he had shown himself to be a "very present help in time of trouble."

Tim did not propose to start for the Run until his companions had concluded their business; his goods were packed ready for removal, and there was nothing better for him to do than accompany them to the court-room where it seemed as if all they might say would result only in a long term of imprisonment for Hazelton before he could be tried on the baseless charge brought against him, simply because of the disreputable business in which he was engaged.

Mr. Harvey had little or nothing to say during the walk to the 'Squire's office, and arriving there the jewelry fakir was seen looking thoroughly despondent.

"Can I speak with him?" Teddy asked the lawyer. "What do you want to say?"

"Nothing in particular, except to tell him how bad I feel because we could do nothing to clear him."

"Very well; but do not talk long, for it may prejudice your own case. The people whom he has swindled are here to see that some form of punishment is meted out to him, and it can do you no good to be seen acting as a consoler."

This possibility troubled Teddy very little since he was confident of his own innocence, and he approached the prisoner as he said:

"I wish I could do something, Mr. Hazelton, to prove you as innocent as I believe you to be."

"There's no need of that, my boy. I've put you in a hole already, and you've done more for me than some others who call themselves friends."

"I know it was Long Jim who committed the burglary; but how can it be proven now?"

"There was only one way, and that was to catch the real thieves with their plunder. Mr. Harvey tells me his attempt was a failure, an' it wouldn't surprise me if I was not only remanded for trial, but received a sentence for something of which I am absolutely innocent. I don't profess to be very good, my boy, as you may understand after seeing me work on the fair grounds; but I never yet descended to do such things as I am charged with now."

"I am certain of that," and Teddy pressed the prisoner's hand in token of friendship, "and only wish it was possible to aid you."

"You have already done more than my partners did," was the grateful reply, and then further conversation was prevented as the 'Squire called the assembly to order.

It was not a regular court of law; but one would have thought it the most dignified judicial body in the country had he seen the air with which the 'Squire took his seat at the head of the long table as he called the case.

"That settles Hazelton," Dan whispered as Teddy left the prisoner and rejoined his friends. "Somebody has got to suffer in order to make the law come out square, an' he's the feller what'll have to stand the brunt of everything."