"Right in this room."
"Well, where are they now?"
Tommy Toddles would have given his word, fifteen minutes before the ex-Pirate asked him this question, that his Noah"s Ark with the animals in it was on the floor near the table; but when he went to look for it to show it to his friend he could not find it anywhere.
"It"s gone," he said finally, after several minutes of vain searching under tables and sofas. "It"s gone, and all the animals too."
"They"ve gone?" repeated the ex-Pirate.
"Yes," said Tommy, dejectedly, "they"ve gone away again. Not only the animals, but the Ark."
"The Ark!" exclaimed the ex-Pirate.
"Certainly," said Tommy. "My animals belonged in the Ark. There were two of each."
"In Noah"s Ark?" said the ex-Pirate.
"Yes; did you never see one?"
"Why, what nonsense!" laughed the ex-Pirate. "That was hundreds and hundreds of years ago."
"I know it was," said Tommy, with dignity. "But my animals were imitations."
The ex-Pirate was gazing absent-mindedly out of the window over toward the ocean. "Your animals had invitations?" he said presently, recovering himself. "Of course. They all did. The Ark was no promiscuous affair.
There was admission by card only. All those that had invitations got in; the others got drowned."
Tommy saw that the ex-Pirate did not quite understand what he had said to him, so he thought it would be wiser to branch out on some other topic, but before he could do so his visitor remarked,
"They had lots of fun in the Ark," and he chuckled to himself.
"How do you know?" asked the little boy.
"The Sheep told me. He was one of the Few Hundred. I should like to have been on board too."
"So should I," a.s.sented Tommy, eagerly, "especially if they were all as nice as the animals we met the other day."
"It _would_ have been fun to take that trip," continued the ex-Pirate, musingly. "I don"t know but that we can, even now, fix it to go on board."
"On board the Ark?" cried Tommy.
"Exactly. We would have to go a long way back through the Ages; but perhaps we can fix that up with old Father Time. He might take us back and let us go aboard."
Tommy stared vacantly at his peculiar companion, and wondered silently if he had gone mad. Pretty soon the ex-Pirate said,
"Let"s go."
"Where?"
"On board the Ark."
"How shall we do it?" asked Tommy, who felt that it could do no harm to humor his caller.
"We will find Father Time, and see if he will go backwards for us. Where is the clock?"
"In the hall down stairs," answered the little boy.
The two went out into the corridor and down the stairs to where the old Dutch clock stood under the staircase, ticking loudly through the silent house. It was much taller than either Tommy or the ex-Pirate, and as they approached the little boy was amazed to see the clock"s face brighten up and smile, and wave its hands in greeting to the ex-Pirate.
The latter returned the courteous salute, and knocked on the door below.
The door immediately opened, and old Father Time, with his scythe and his hour-gla.s.s, stepped out into the hallway, and nodded cheerfully to the ex-Pirate.
"How do you do?" said he.
"Sixty seconds to the minute as usual," answered Father Time, genially.
"What can I do for you?"
"Can you go back a little?" asked the ex-Pirate, inquiringly.
"What for?" asked Father Time.
And then the ex-Pirate started in to explain what he wanted. His argument was most involved, and Tommy Toddles could not follow it at all; but the latter kept on talking as fast and as impressively as he could, and occasionally he pulled out his pistols and shook them vigorously in the air over his head. Father Time listened attentively, and shook his head negatively for a long time, but finally he appeared to yield to the ex-Pirate"s persuasive arguments, and when he spoke he said he would do what was wanted.
"Will you go?" said the ex-Pirate, turning quickly to Tommy. The little boy hesitated a moment, because he did not know exactly where the ex-Pirate wanted him to go, or how long he would be gone if he went; he hesitated, but it was only for a moment, because he soon noticed that Father Time was growing impatient, and the ex-Pirate looked slightly displeased at the delay.
"Oh yes, I"ll go," he said, impulsively.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THROUGH THE HALLS OF TIME.]
He had hardly spoken these words when Father Time slung his scythe and his hour-gla.s.s over his shoulders, grabbed the ex-Pirate with one hand and seized Tommy with the other. Then the old Dutch clock began burring and whizzing, as if all the wheels were revolving as fast as they could turn; and they must have been, for when Tommy glanced at the face of the clock to see what the hour was the hands were racing around so fast that he could hardly see them--and they were turning in the opposite direction from the way clock hands usually travel. There was no time to notice this slight peculiarity, however, for the little boy felt himself rudely jerked off his feet, held firmly by the tight grasp of Father Time, and before he could exclaim or object or expostulate, he saw himself flying through s.p.a.ce at what seemed to be the rate of many hundreds of miles a minute. Father Time was vigorously working his wings, and was speeding backwards, his long gray beard flowing in the wind between Tommy and the ex-Pirate, who were sticking out straight behind, and neither of whom had breath enough left to be able to say anything.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] "On Board the Ark" is a sequel to "The Strange Adventures of Tommy Toddles," which began in No. 790.
[Ill.u.s.tration: INTERSCHOLASTIC SPORT]
Although it may have been a surprise to many to see Whitman play his way through to the finals at the Longwood Tournament last week, his success was hardly unexpected by those who have been watching his work since his defeat by Ware on Jarvis Field in May. Ware earned the championship of the Boston schools on that occasion, and he had to play hard to do it, defeating Whitman 6-4, 6-3, 7-5, but since that time his game seems to have fallen off slightly, whereas Whitman"s has vastly improved. He let the champion take the first set of their match, 6-3, but in the three that followed, Ware only pulled out five games.
[Ill.u.s.tration: L. E. Ware, umpiring. Hovey. Whitman.
FINAL MATCH OF THE LONGWOOD TENNIS TOURNAMENT.]
It cannot be said, however, that Ware played poor tennis, for that was by no means the case. He played well--he certainly had to play well to reach the semi-finals--but Whitman played better. Again and again, especially during the first part of the match, Ware pa.s.sed his opponent at the net, which is Whitman"s strong position. That kind of play won him the first set; but Whitman braced after that, and closed up, and although Ware got the b.a.l.l.s over the net, he could not pa.s.s him. Ware lacked head-work in placing. He seemed to lose much of his coolness as soon as Whitman came up to him, and instead of lobbing, as he ought to have done, or of going up to the net himself, he placed the b.a.l.l.s frequently to his opponent"s advantage and to his own discomfiture. I had expected to see Ware put up a strong offensive game, but his play was mostly defensive. He had evidently not expected to encounter such a change in his rival"s methods. Whitman certainly showed greater confidence in himself than he did on Jarvis Field, and was much more at home at the net.