Long Live the King! | Page 8

at him. "You
ought to see it fly from the top of Pike's Peak!" he remarked. He had
caught sight of the despised derby, and his eyes widened, but with
instinctive good-breeding he ignored it. "That's Pike's Peak up there."
He indicated the very top of the Land of Desire. The Prince stared up.
"How does one get up?" he queried.
"Ladders. My father's the manager. He lets me up sometimes."
Prince Ferdinand William Otto stared with new awe at the boy. He
found the fact much more remarkable than if the stranger had stated

that his father was the King of England. Kings were, as you may say,
directly in Prince Ferdinand William Otto's line, but scenic railroads -
"I had thought of taking a journey on it," he said, after a second's
reflection. "Do you think your father will sell me a ticket?"
"Billy Grimm will. I'll go with you."
The Prince rose with alacrity. Then he stopped. He must, of course, ask
the strange boy to be his guest. But two tickets! Perhaps his allowance
was not sufficient.
"I must see first how much it costs," he said with dignity.
The other boy laughed. "Oh, gee! You come with me. It won't cost
anything," he said, and led the way toward the towering lights.
For Bobby Thorpe to bring a small boy to ride with him was an
everyday affair. Billy Grimm, at the ticket-window, hardly glanced at
the boy who stood, trembling with anticipation, in the shadow of the
booth.
The car came, and they climbed in. Perhaps, as they moved off, Prince
Ferdinand William Otto had a qualm, occasioned by the remembrance
of the English child who had met an untimely end; but if he did, he
pluckily hid it.
"Put your lid on the floor of the car," said Bobby Thorpe' depositing his
own atom there. "Father says, if you do that; you're perfectly safe."
Prince Ferdinand William Otto divined that this referred to his hat, and
drew a small breath of relief. And then they were off, up an endless,
clicking roadway, where at the top the car hung for a breathless second
over the gulf below; then, fairly launched, out on a trestle, with the city
far beneath them, and only the red, white, and blue lights for company;
and into a tunnel, filled with roaring noises and swift moving shadows.
Then came the end of all things a flying leap down, a heart-breaking,
delirious thrill, an upward sweep just as the strain was too great for

endurance.
"Isn't it bully?" shouted the American boy against the onrush of the
wind.
"Fine!" shrieked His Royal Highness, and braced himself for another
dip into the gulf.
Above the roaring of the wind in their ears, neither child had heard the
flying feet of a dozen horses coming down the allee. They never knew
that a hatless young lieutenant, white-lipped with fear, had checked his
horse to its haunches at the ticket-booth, and demanded to know who
was in the Land of Desire.
"Only the son of the manager, and a boy friend of his," replied Billy
Grimm, in what he called the lingo of the country. "What's wrong? Lost
anybody?"
But Hedwig's lieutenant had wheeled his horse without a word, and,
jumping him aver the hedge of the allee, was off in a despairing search
of the outskirts of the park, followed by his cavalrymen.
As the last horse leaped the hedge and disappeared, the car came to a
stop at the platform. Quivering, Prince Ferdinand William Otto reached
down for the despised hat.
"Would you like to go around again?" asked Bobby, quite casually.
His Highness gasped with joy. "If - if you would be so kind!" he said.
And at the lordly wave of Bobby's hand, the car moved on.
CHAPTER III
DISGRACED
At eight o'clock that evening the Crown Prince Ferdinand William Otto
approached the Palace through the public square. He approached it

slowly, for two reasons. First, he did not want to go back. Second, he
was rather frightened. He had an idea that they would be disagreeable.
There seemed to be a great deal going on at the palace. Carriages were
rolling in under the stone archway and, having discharged their
contents, mostly gentlemen in uniform, were moving off with a
thundering of hoofs that reechoed from the vaulted roof of the entrance.
All the lights were on in the wing where his grandfather, the King,
lived alone. As his grandfather hated lights, and went to bed early,
Prince Ferdinand William Otto was slightly puzzled.
He stood in the square and waited for a chance to slip in unobserved.
He was very dirty. His august face was streaked with soot, and his
august hands likewise. His small derby hat was carefully