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Mr. G. Marvel scowled at me. “What is the meaning of these shenanigans? Have you been harboring this creature?” he demanded.
“He’s not a cre
ature!” I cried.
“He didn’t know I was here,” said Apollo simultaneously.
“Quiet!” roared the equestrian director. He came much too close to me for comfort and stuck his face in mine. “We hired one person, sir, not two, did we not?”
I tottered back and didn’t hazard an answer.
The equestrian director rose to his full height once more. “Yet you bring along this stowaway, this deadhead, to steal our hospitality.”
“He didn’t know,” said Apollo. “I followed him from home. He just found out yesterday, and he was very angry with me.”
“Why did you not inform us when you discovered him?” Mr. G. Marvel asked.
“I don’t know, sir,” I mumbled. What was I to say—that I didn’t trust them?
“Meanwhile, he steals our food,” said J. Marvel.
“And frightens our ladies,” said young Mr. A. Marvel.
“Imprisons a respected performer and ruins his act,” said Mr. G. Marvel.
“Endangers the audience,” added the middle brother.
“Destroys property,” said the youngest.
“What kind of home do you come from where beings such as this are raised?” asked Mr. G. Marvel.
“A very fine home indeed,” I proclaimed, drawing myself up.
“A place that instills no moral character,” said the equestrian director, ignoring me. “A place that teaches stealing and lying.”
“What are we to do with them?” asked J. Marvel. “Call the law?”
“But this boy needs help,” said the youngest brother, gesturing at Apollo. “How can a degenerate creature be held responsible for his actions? He hasn’t the wits or moral sensibilities of normal men. He needs guidance and care.”
The noises that Apollo made at that statement didn’t do much to correct anyone’s assessment of his wits. “Be quiet,” I whispered, and put my arm around him. Apollo shut his mouth, but his face remained crumpled and sulky.
“I doubt if Mr. Rose will have you back,” said Mr. G. Marvel to me. “There’s no room for plug-uglies and street Arabs around here, but you owe us money for the magic ball and stolen food and must work it off.”
“The advance men could use another poster boy,” said A. Marvel. “We could send him on the express from the next stop to join them in Illinois.”
“Excellent,” said Mr. G. Marvel. “He can work off his debt with them.”
I couldn’t believe it. They bartered my future away as if I were an indentured servant of days gone by, and it was likely I wouldn’t see a cent of what I had already earned. “We’ll see about that,” I said.
“It’s that or the sheriff,” answered Mr. G. Marvel.
That shut me up. I couldn’t reason with these people. When they were through with us, I would gather as many of my belongings as I could and hightail it with Apollo. I had no money to take him home, so he would just have to come with me after all. We’d search for Lady Adventure together.
I didn’t expect what happened next.
“Lock that unfortunate in the caboose with a bucket and a keg of water,” said Mr. G. Marvel. “I understand there is a good asylum in the town after next. Just the place for an unruly imbecile.”
“No, send him back to his family,” I cried as the thug who guarded the door yanked Apollo from my grasp.
