OWEN CLANCY'S HAPPY TRAIL;
Or, THE MOTOR WIZARD IN CALIFORNIA.
By BURT L. STANDISH.
CHAPTER I.
ALMOST A RIOT.
No, it was not an earthquake that happened in the city of Los Angeles,California, on that beautiful sun-shiny morning. It was just atow-headed, cross-eyed youth shaking things up at the corner of Sixthand Main in an attempt to find his father.
And not one corner of the cross streets was involved, but all fourcorners. The upheaval that followed this search for a missing relative,extended in several directions, so that a very small cause led up toremarkably large results.
It was nine o'clock of a Saturday morning. That Saturday was some sortof a festal day for the Chinese, and at the hour mentioned, a dragon ablock long, consisting of a hundred Celestials covered withpapier-mâché, was twisting and writhing along Sixth Street.
On one corner, leaning against the side of a building, was a tall man inseedy clothes. A card on his breast bore the sad legend, "Help theBlind." The man's eyes were covered with large blue goggles, and in onehand he held his hat, and in the other a couple of dozen cheap leadpencils.
Across the street, on corner number two, was an Italian with a handorgan. The Italian's assistant was a monkey in a red cap.
Corner number three, among others, held a grocer's boy, carrying abasket with six dozens of eggs. He was very much absorbed in watchingthe Chinese dragon wriggle along the thoroughfare.
The fourth corner was reserved for Hiram Hill, the tow-headed,cross-eyed chap who was destined to cause all the commotion. While Hillstood on the walk, telling himself that the gaudily painted dragonlooked very much like an overgrown centipede, he suddenly caught sightof a man in an automobile.
The auto was headed along Main Street, and was waiting for the dragon toclear the way so it could proceed. Hill looked at the machine across thepapier-mâché spine of the chink monster, and he gave a yell of surprisewhen his gaze took account of the one man in the tonneau of the car.
Undoubtedly that man was Hiram Hill's father–the parent who had beenmysteriously missing ever since the first Klondike gold rush! Hiram'seyes were sharp, and to them the beetling brow, the one "squint eye,"the very pronounced Roman nose, and the retreating chin which made theface resemble a bird's beak, were all very plain.
After that first yell of surprise, Hiram's astonishing good luck heldhim speechless. Following a year of a trying town-to-town canvas of thewhole Southwest, he had at last come within hailing distance of hislong-lost parent.
Only one point remained to make assurance doubly sure. Had the "suspect"a brown mole on the back of his neck? Sharp as Hill's eyes were, theycould not determine that.
"Who wants a pencil?" came feebly from the hapless person on the firstcorner. "Help the blind."
"Jocko," said the son of sunny Italy, on corner two, "maka da bow, takada mon!"
The monkey lifted his hat and went through motions that passed for abow. He also looked at his master and showed his teeth, not relishingthe way his chain had been pulled.
"Pipe de chink wid de pigeon toes and de bow legs!" yelped the grocer'sboy. "If he's goin' de way dem feet are pointed, foist t'ing yous knowhe'll be runnin' into himself."
The boy with the basket of eggs was very observin