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CHAPTER
3

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Mrs. Bismuth didn’t seem much worried about the disappearance of her husband. When Freddy told her what had happened, and that Mr. Bismuth had apparently run off with all the money he had collected, she did indeed burst into tears. But when Freddy tried to comfort her, and assured her that they would find Mr. Bismuth and make him give back the money, she explained (between sobs) that she had no fear that he was a thief: she wept, she stated, because of Freddy’s lack of confidence in her noble husband.

“Oh, how can you say such things about Pa?” she wailed. “Pa is a gentleman; Pa would not steal. Children, close your ears; do not listen to such dreadful stories about your noble Pa.” She wept bitterly, and the two little Bismuths wept with her.

But Freddy said: “Your noble Pa had better come back with the money he took for those tickets or our noble sheriff will put him in jail.”

Uncle Ben felt pretty badly about it. He said he was going down to Centerboro and pay five dollars back to everybody who had bought a ticket from Mr. Bismuth. But when he came to count up his money he had only eight dollars. He had spent all the rest for materials to build the space ship.

So Mr. Bean said he’d advance the money. “These Bismuths,” he said; “they’re relatives, ain’t they? Well, then, we’re responsible for them.”

Freddy said: “I don’t see why either you or Uncle Ben should have to give back the money just because the one that stole it married Mrs. Bean’s cousin.” He even argued with Mr. Bean about it, which is something almost none of the animals ever did. But finally Mrs. Bean said: “You can argue till you’re blue in the face, Freddy, but if Mr. Bean feels that we’re responsible, then we’re responsible. You’re right, Mr. B., as always.”

That settled it, and Mr. Bean was just getting ready to hitch Hank up to the phaeton and drive down to Centerboro to get the money from the bank, when Mr. Bismuth himself came riding up the road on a brand new bicycle.

Mrs. Bismuth was pretty emotional; that is to say, she yelled a lot when it wasn’t really necessary. She gave a loud yell now and started to fall over in a faint, and Mr. Bismuth jumped off his bicycle and propped her up, and the two little Bismuths, who were also emotional, began to cry again—probably from joy, this time.

Mrs. Bismuth’s yell had brought the Beans and all the animals out into the barnyard, and they surrounded Mr. Bismuth in an angry group, demanding to know where the money was that he had collected for tickets. But Mr. Bismuth held up his hands and said laughingly: “Please! Please! Why, my friends, here’s a great fuss over nothing at all. It was just a joke—ha, ha!—a Bismuth must have his little joke, mustn’t he? They’ll all get their money back. I’m off for Centerboro now to give it to ’em.”

Mr. Bean looked hard at him. “See that you do,” he said. “We don’t care for that kind of joke on this farm. Come along, Uncle Ben.” And the Beans went into the house.

But Freddy wasn’t satisfied. “Wait a minute,” he said as the other animals began to straggle away. “I want to know where that bicycle came from. You didn’t have it when you left here, Mr. Bismuth.”

“Well now, ain’t you the sharp-eyed one!” said Mr. Bismuth admiringly. “Who’d ha’ thought you’d noticed that! No sir, I didn’t, and that’s a fact. But I’ll tell you about it. Ha, ha! A Bismuth don’t have any secrets from his friends. Bein’ a plumber by trade, I done a little plumbing job for Dr. Wintersip. When I was finished, he says: ‘How you gettin’ back to the farm?’ ‘Walk,’ I says, and he says: ‘All that ways? Why that’s terrible! Here,’ he says, ‘take this here bicycle—I don’t hardly ever use it.’ ‘Oh, no,’ I says; ‘a Bismuth don’t ever take more’n what he’s entitled to, and you already paid me well for the job.’ But he insisted, and—well, I took it. Real nice of him, eh?”

Freddy didn’t say anything, and after a minute Mr. Bismuth untied a bag from the handlebars and gave it to his wife. “Some candy and little cakes for you and the kids,” he said. “I’ll probably be back to supper—hungry as a hunter, too, likely. So tell Mrs. Bean to save me plenty.” He jumped on the bicycle and rode out of the gate.

Mrs. Bismuth and the children opened the bag and began gobbling the candy and cakes as fast as they could. They didn’t offer the animals any. Freddy thought there must be several dollars’ worth of stuff in the bag, and he wondered if some of the ticket money hadn’t bought it, for he was sure the Bismuths couldn’t have that much to spend on candy. He went into the barn where Mr. Bean was starting to unhitch Hank from the phaeton. “Would you let me drive into Centerboro?” he said. “I’d like to check Mr. Bismuth’s story. I don’t think he was telling the truth.”

“Know durn well he wasn’t,” said Mr. Bean. “Go ahead. But no racing.” Mr. Bean was referring to the last time Freddy had driven Hank to town, when he had raced a trailer truck and had been sideswiped.

It had been more Hank’s fault than Freddy’s, as a matter of fact. Going up a long hill the truck had slowed down, and Hank had tried to pass. But the truck wouldn’t let them by, and the driver leaned out and jeered at them, calling Hank “king of the boneyard,” and “old snort-and-heave.” This made Hank mad. He took the bit in his teeth and tried to pass anyway.

Freddy protested, but he couldn’t pull on the reins to stop Hank, because there weren’t any. Mr. Bean never used reins to steer the horse with; he just told Hank where he wanted to go, and Hank took him there. It was a handy arrangement, but in this case it didn’t work well. The phaeton went into the ditch, a wheel came off, and Freddy was thrown out and hit his nose on a rock. Although the phaeton really belonged to the animals, who had brought it back from their trip to Florida, Mr. Bean was upset because he said both of them might have been killed.

Hank was more careful this time and they got into Centerboro all right and drew up in front of Dr. Wintersip’s little white house. Freddy jumped out and ran up the steps and gave a pull at the old-fashioned doorbell. But instead of ringing a bell, the knob came right out in his hand and he nearly fell backwards off the porch. He started to knock, but just then the door opened and Dr. Wintersip stuck his head out.

“Well, well,” he said. “It’s Freddy. Thought I heard someone. Come in.” Then he saw that Freddy was still holding the bell knob. “Aha,” he said, “I expected that. That bell was one of the things your Mr. Bismuth repaired for me.”

“I thought he said he did a plumbing job for you,” Freddy said.

“He did several jobs. If he’d stayed a little longer I guess I’d have had to move out of the house. Come in; I’ll show you.”

They went out into the kitchen. There were muddy tracks all over the floor, and beside the sink was a big hole in the wall, with a heap of plaster under it. There was also a good deal of water on the floor.

“This Bismuth person answered an ad I had in the paper for a handyman to come make a few repairs,” Dr. Wintersip said. “He gave Mr. Bean as a reference, so I thought he must be all right. First thing he fixed was the back door. It would blow open in the wind because the latch was loose. ‘Ha, ha,’ says Bismuth: ‘we’ll fix that all right!’ And he did. He took half a dozen spikes and nailed it shut. Now we can’t use that door any more.

“Well, I thought maybe he’d misunderstood me, so I had him fix the doorbell, and a couple of other little things, and then there was a little leak in the hot water faucet out here. He looked at it and said: ‘You got any adhesive plaster?’ I thought maybe he’d cut himself, so I got him some. He tried to mend the leak with it, and of course when we turned the water on again it blew out all over everything. Then—well, I don’t know what he did, but you see what a mess he made. And the water won’t run at all out here now.”

Freddy said: “Dear, dear!” and he said: “Tut, tut!” and he said: “Mr. Bean will be pretty upset about this. I’m sure that he’ll make things right. By the way, Mr. Bismuth came home with a bicycle he said you’d given him. You didn’t, did you?”

“A bicycle?” said Dr. Wintersip. “No, of course not. I ...” He stopped suddenly. “Gracious me, you don’t suppose ... I left my bicycle out back ...” He made for the back door, but of course that was spiked shut. They had to go out the front door and around to the back porch. The bicycle wasn’t there.

Freddy had about used up all his apologies. He just stood and looked at Dr. Wintersip and Dr. Wintersip looked at him and they both groaned. Then Freddy said: “I’ll get it back for you,” and he turned to go down off the porch. But as he stepped to the edge, the board he stepped on was one that Mr. Bismuth had repaired the floor with and forgotten to nail down. So it tipped up behind Freddy and smacked him in the rear, and he fell off the porch into a rain barrel about half full of rain water.

Freddy went into the barrel headfirst, but he didn’t go all the way in because he was too plump. He just went in up to his shoulders. Dr. Wintersip caught him by the legs and pulled him out, and Freddy wiped the water, and a few dead leaves that had been in it, off his face and said very coldly and quietly: “Thank you.” And then he left. But Dr. Wintersip sat down on the porch and put his head in his hands and moaned.

Freddy and the Space Ship

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