Chapter Ten

ROUND THE CAMPFIRE

Jeremy led the way out of the circus-ring. It had been well-lighted, and the night seemed very dark outside the ring. They went over the field to where a large fire was burning, cleverly set about with stones. An enormous cooking-pot was hung over it, and a very, very nice smell came to their noses as they went near.

Old Grandma was there, of course, and she began stirring the pot when she saw them. ‘You’ve been a long time in the ring,’ she grumbled to Grandad. ‘Anything gone wrong?’

‘No,’ said Grandad, and sniffed the air. ‘I’m hungry. That smells good. Jeremy, help your Grandma.’

‘Yes, Grandad,’ said Jeremy, and took a pile of plates to the old lady, who at once began ladling out pieces of meat and potatoes and vegetables from the steaming pot. Old Grandad turned to Julian.

‘Well - did you like our little rehearsal?’ he asked.

‘Oh yes!’ said Julian. ‘I’m only sorry you didn’t rehearse all the turns. I badly wanted to see the acrobats and the clowns. Are they here? I can’t see them.’

‘Oh yes - there’s one clown over there - look - with Madelon, who had the horses,’ said Grandad.

The children looked - and were very disappointed. ‘Is he a clown?’ said Dick, disbelievingly. ‘He doesn’t look a bit funny. He looks miserable.’

‘That’s Monty all right,’ said Grandad. ‘He always looks like that out of the ring. He’ll make you double up with laughter when the circus is on, he’s a born clown - but a lot of clowns are like Monty when they’re not performing - not much to say for themselves, and looking miserable. Winks is a bit livelier - that’s him, pulling Madelon’s hair. He’ll get a smacked face in a minute, he’s a real tease. There - I knew he’d get a clip on the ear!’

Winks went howling over to the children, boo-hooing most realistically. ‘She smacked me!’ he said. ‘And she’s got such p-p-p-pretty hair!’

The children couldn’t help laughing. Mischief ran to the clown, jumped up on his shoulder and chattered comforting monkey-words into his ear. Charlie the Chimp let himself out of his cage, and came to put his great paw into Winks’s hand. They both thought that Winks really was hurt.

‘That’s enough, Winks,’ said Grandad. ‘You’ll have the horses comforting you next! You do that in the ring tomorrow when we open, and you’ll bring the house down. Sit down, and have your supper.’

‘Mr Tapper,’ said Julian. ‘There’s one member of your circus we didn’t see at the rehearsal - and that’s Mr Wooh, the Wonder Magician. Why wasn’t he there?’

‘Oh, he never rehearses,’ said Mr Tapper. ‘He keeps himself to himself, does Mr Wooh. He may come and join us for supper, and he may not. As we’re opening the circus tomorrow night, maybe he’ll turn up tonight. I’m a bit scared of him, to tell you the truth.’

‘But he’s not a real wizard, is he?’ asked Tinker.

‘Well, when I talk to Mr Wooh I feel as if he is,’ said Mr Tapper. ‘There isn’t a thing he doesn’t know about figures, there isn’t a thing he can’t do with them. Ask him to multiply any number by any other number, running into dozens of figures, and he’ll tell you in a second. He shouldn’t be in a circus. He should be an inventor of some sort - an inventor whose invention needs pages and pages of figures. He’d be happy then.’

‘He sounds a bit like my father,’ said Tinker. ‘He’s an inventor, you know, and sometimes when I creep into his study I see papers FULL of millions of tiny figures and plans and diagrams with tiny figures all over them too.’

‘Very interesting,’ said Grandad. ‘Your father and Mr Wooh ought to meet. They would probably talk figures all day long! My word - what’s that you’re handing round, young lady?’

‘Some of the food we brought,’ said Anne. ‘Have a sausage or two, Mr Tapper - and a roll - and a tomato.’

‘Well, thanks,’ said Mr Tapper, pleased. ‘Very kind of you. Nice to have met you all. You might be able to teach Jeremy a few manners!’

‘Grandad - here’s Mr Wooh!’ said Jeremy, suddenly, and got up. Everyone turned round. So this was Mr Wooh the Wonder Magician. Well, he certainly looked the part.

He stood there, with a half-smile on his face, tall, commanding and handsome. His hair was thick, and black as soot, his eyes gleamed in the fire-light, half hidden by great eye-brows, and he wore a thin, pointed beard. He had a curiously deep voice, and spoke like a foreigner.

‘So we have visitors this night?’ he said, and showed a row of gleaming white teeth in a quick smile. ‘May I join you?’

‘Oh do, Mr Wooh,’ said Anne, delighted to have the chance of talking to a Wonder Magician. ‘We’ve brought plenty of food. Do you like cold sausage - and tomato - and a roll?’

‘Most deelicious!’ said the magician, and sat down cross-legged to join the group.

‘We were disappointed not to see you at the rehearsal,’ said Dick. ‘I’d have liked to hear you doing all kinds of wizard sums in your head, as quick as lightning!’

‘My father can do that too,’ said Tinker proudly. ‘He’s a wizard at figures as well. He’s an inventor.’

‘Ha! An inventor? And what does he invent?’ asked Mr Wooh, eating his roll.

That was enough to set Tinker describing at once how wonderful his father was. ‘He can invent anything he’s asked for,’ said the boy, proudly. ‘He invented a wonderful thing for keeping aeroplanes dead straight in the right direction - better than any idea before. He invented the sko-wheel, if you know what that is - and the electric trosymon, if you’ve ever heard of that. I don’t suppose you have, though. They’re too...’

‘Wait, boy!’ said Mr Wooh, sounding most interested. ‘These things I have heard of, yes. I do not know them, but I have certainly heard of them. Your father must be a very, very clever man, with a most unusual brain.’

Tinker swelled with pride. ‘Something got into the papers about his inventions a little while ago,’ he said, ‘and reporters came down to see Dad, and his name was in the papers - but Dad was awfully cross about it. You see, he’s in the middle of the biggest idea he’s ever thought of and it messed up his work to have people coming to interview him - some of them even peered through the window, and went to see his wonderful tower, with its...’

‘Tower? He has a tower?’ said Mr Wooh, full of surprise. Before Tinker could answer, he received a hard poke from Julian’s finger. He turned crossly, to see Julian frowning fiercely at him. So was George. He went suddenly red in the face. Of course - he had been told never to talk about his father’s work. It was secret work, very secret.

He pretended to choke over a piece of meat, hoping that Julian would take the chance of changing the subject - and Julian did, of' course!

‘Mr Wooh, could you do a bit of magic reckoning with figures?’ he asked. ‘I’ve heard that you can give the answers to any sum as quick as lightning.’

‘That is true,’ said Mr Wooh. ‘There is nothing that I cannot do with figures. Ask me anything you like, and I will give you the answer at once!’

‘Well, Mr Wooh, answer this then,’ cried Tinker. ‘Multiply sixty-three thousand, three hundred and forty-two by eighty thousand, nine hundred and fifty-three! Ha - you can’t do that in a hurry!’

‘The answer is, in figures, 5127724926,’ said Mr Wooh at once, with a slight bow. ‘That is an easy question, my boy.’

‘Crumbs!’ said Tinker, astounded. He turned to Julian. ‘Is that right, Ju?’

Julian worked out the sum on paper. ‘Yes. Absolutely correct. Whew!’ he said. ‘You said that as quick as lightning!’

‘Let me give him a sum to do!’ cried George. ‘What do you get if you multiply 602491 by 352, Mr Magician?’

‘I get the figures 2-1-2-0-7-6-8-3-2,’ said Mr Wooh, immediately. And once more Julian worked out the sum on paper. He raised his head and grinned. ‘Yes - correct. How do you do it so quickly?’

‘Magic - just a little elementary magic!’ answered Mr Wooh. ‘Try it sometime yourself. I am sure that this boy’s father would be as quick as I am!’ He looked at Tinker. ‘I should much like to meet your clever father, my boy,’ he said in his deep, foreign-sounding voice. ‘We would have much, so much to talk about. I have heard about his wonderful tower. A monument to his genius! Ah, you see, even we foreigners know of your father’s great work. Surely he is afraid of having his secrets stolen?’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ said Tinker. ‘The tower is a pretty good hiding-place, and...’ He stopped suddenly, and went red again as he received an even harder kick from Julian. How could he be such an ass as to give away the fact that his father’s secret plans and models were hidden in the tower?

Julian thought it was time to take Tinker firmly away from Mr Wooh and give him a good lecture on keeping his mouth shut. He looked at his watch, and pretended to be horrified at the time. ‘Good gracious-do you know what the time is? Jenny will be ringing up the police if we don’t get back straight away. Come on, Tinker, and you others, we must go. Thanks most awfully, Grandad, for letting us share your supper.’

‘But we haven’t yet finished!’ said Grandad. ‘You haven’t had enough to eat.’

‘We really couldn’t eat any more,’ said Dick, following Julian’s determined lead. ‘See you tomorrow, Grandad. Good night, Grandma. Thanks very much indeed.’

‘We’ve still got bananas and apples to eat,’ said Tinker, feeling obstinate.

‘Oh, we brought those for Charlie the Chimp,’ said Dick, not quite truthfully. He could have boxed Tinker’s ears! Silly little fathead, couldn’t he realize that Julian wanted to get him away from this cunning Mr Wooh? Wait till he got Tinker by himself!

Tinker found himself hustled on all sides, and felt a bit scared. Julian sounded rather fierce, he thought. Old Grandad was most astonished at the sudden departure of his guests - but Charlie the Chimp didn’t mind! The guests had left behind a most generous supply of fruit!

Over the fence they all went, with Julian hustling Tinker in front of him. Once over the fence and out of Mr Wooh’s hearing, Julian and George rounded on the boy angrily.

‘Are you mad, Tinker?’ demanded Julian. ‘Didn’t you guess that that foreign fellow was trying to pump you about your father’s hush-hush job?’

‘He wasn’t,’ said Tinker, almost in tears. ‘You’re just exaggerating!’

‘Well, I hope I never try to give away my father’s secret work!’ said George, in a tone of such disgust that Tinker could have howled.

‘I wasn’t trying to!’ he said. ‘Mr Wooh’s all right. Why should you think he isn’t?’

‘I don’t like him and I don’t trust him,’ said Julian, sounding suddenly very grown up. ‘But there you sat lapping up everything he said, ready to pour out all he wanted to know. I’m ashamed of you. You’d get a jolly good thrashing if your father had heard you. I only hope you haven’t already said too much. You know how angry your father was when a report of his latest ideas got into the papers, and swarms of people came prying round the house...’

Tinker could stand it no longer. He gave a forlorn howl that made Mischief jump, and fled up the garden to the house, the little monkey running swiftly behind him. He wanted to comfort Tinker. What was the matter? Poor little Mischief felt bewildered, and tried his best to catch up the sobbing Tinker. He caught him up at last, leapt to the boy’s shoulder and put his little furry arms round Tinker’s neck, making a queer comforting noise.

‘Oh, Mischief,’ said Tinker. ‘I’m glad you’re still my friend. The others won’t be now, I know. Aren’t I an idiot, Mischief? But I was only being proud of my father, I was, really!’

Mischief clung to Tinker, puzzled and upset. Tinker stopped outside the tall tower. There was a light at the top. His father must still be working there. A faint humming noise came to his ears. He wondered if it was those queer, spindly tentacles right at the very top of the tower, that made the noise. Suddenly the light at the top of the tower went out.

‘Dad must have finished his work for tonight,’ thought Tinker. ‘He’ll be coming to the house. I’d better go. He might wonder why I’m all upset. Gosh, I never heard Julian be so angry before. He sounded as if he absolutely despised me!’

He crept up the path that led to the house, and in at the garden door. Better not go and see Jenny. She might worm everything out of him, and be as disgusted with him as Julian was. She would wonder why he wasn’t camping out with them. He’d go upstairs and sleep in his own bed tonight!

‘Come on, Mischief,’ he said, in a mournful voice. ‘We’ll go to bed, and you can cuddle down with me. You’d never be mean to me, would you? You’d always be my friend.’

Mischief jabbered away, and the funny little monkey voice comforted Tinker all the time he undressed. He flung himself into bed, and Mischief lay at the bottom, on his feet. ‘I shall never be able to get to sleep tonight,’ said Tinker, still miserable. ‘Never!’

But he fell asleep at once - which was a great pity, really. He might have shared in quite a bit of excitement, if he hadn’t slept so soundly! Poor Tinker!