"You're Wild Charlie, are you?" demanded the chief.
"Yes, partner."
"What part of Vermont do you come from! Or is Germany your hailing
place, Wild Charlie?"
"Don't josh me too hard, Chief," pleaded the medicine fakir "Will
you let my people go, if I settle?"
"These terrors," retorted Chief Simmons, "are about due for thirty
days for disturbing the peace."
"But that would bust my summer season, Chief," pleaded "Wild Charlie."
"Oh, don't run these innocents in, Chief," urged Tom Reade. "They
aren't really bad, and they admitted it as soon as we told 'em so.
These people are not dangerous---only a bit nervous."
"See here, Wild Charlie," grinned the chief of police, "I don't
want to do anything to make you wilder. I'll let these human
picture books go on condition that you take your show at once
and clear on out of town."
"I may just as well go," sighed the long-haired one. "This job
has ruined my business here. And say, Chief, won't you break the
guns and knock the cartridges out, and then let me have the guns,
too? They cost a lot of money!"
But on this point Chief Simmons was firm.
"No, sirree! You can take your infant terrors and load them on
the first train away from here.
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