{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66394/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66394","id":"gutenberg_66394","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66394","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Category: Short Stories","Farms -- Fiction","Horror tales","Short stories","Siblings -- Fiction"],"text":"They were two very ordinary strawmen on\n            adjacent farms. Nice playmates for a couple of\n            imaginative kids. Then Jimmy gave a knife to--\n\n                        The Dangerous Scarecrow\n\n                            By Carl Jacobi\n\n           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n              Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy\n                              August 1954\n         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\n\nBoth Mr. Maudsley and Mr. Trask were resplendent that October evening.\nMr. Maudsley stood deep in the cornfield, overall trousers ballooning\nin the wind, one hand nailed to a pie-tin that caught the moonlight\nand reflected it like a mirror. While across the road the hat of Mr.\nTrask was bright with the strip of foil Jimmy had fastened to it that\nmorning.\n\nFrom the rear seat of the car Jimmy looked down upon the two figures as\nthe road wound between the shocked fields.\n\nNext to him his sister, Stella, said, \"Mr. Trask looks fine tonight. I\nthink he likes the silver ribbon you gave him.\"\n\nJimmy nodded. \"Mr. Maudsley looks good too. See the way his hand\nshines?\"\n\nIn the driver's seat as he twisted the wheel to avoid a rut in the\nroad, grey-haired Mr. Tapping coughed and glanced at his wife.\n\n\"What are those kids whispering about?\"\n\nThe whispers died abruptly, and the car rattled over Goose Creek bridge\nand began the long climb to the Tapping farm.\n\nThey stopped at the roadside mailbox, but there was no mail; then they\nwere rolling up the cedar-lined lane, past the silo, past the barn,\ninto the farmyard.\n\nStella went into the house with her mother, but Jimmy remained with his\nfather to open the garage doors. He snapped the big padlock shut after\nthe car was put away, made a vain attempt to catch Higgins, the cat,\nand followed Mr. Tapping up the porch steps into the house. Upstairs\nin his room half an hour later, he undressed reluctantly and climbed\ninto bed, wide awake. He lay there listening to the old house creak and\ngroan in the night wind.\n\nFrom the distance came the mournful wail of a train whistle.\n\nPresently Jimmy got out of bed, crossed to the window and stood looking\nout into the moonlight. Below him he could see his ball bat leaning\nagainst a tree, looking strangely white against the shadows. Beyond\nwas the outline of a mounted horseman, the pump, and beyond that the\ngrey circular walls of the silo pointed upward like a castle tower.\nSomething caught Jimmy's eye, made him look to the east. He looked\nagain, then moved to the table and rummaged through the drawer until he\nfound the silver spyglass his father had given him last Christmas. He\ncarried the glass back to the window, pushed the window open and peered\nout.\n\nIn the bright moonlight he could see Mr. Maudsley clearly. And a little\nfarther on he could see Mr. Trask. Two silent figures alone in the\ncornfields.\n\nThe boy lowered the glass, wiped the lens on his sleeve, and carefully\nfocused again. A puzzled frown furrowed his face. Save for the flapping\nof his trousers in the wind, Mr. Maudsley stood motionless, as of\ncourse he should. But Mr. Trask.... A passing cloud slid over the\nmoon, darkening the landscape. In the few seconds before it brought\ncomplete blackness Jimmy thought he saw Mr. Trask kick up his heels,\nleap high in the air and begin to dance a rigadoon over the shocked\ncorn.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nAt breakfast next morning Jimmy waited impatiently for his sister to\ncome downstairs. He hoped she would get to the table before his father\nbecause with Papa present he couldn't talk, and he wanted to talk. When\nat last Stella took her chair, he stretched his foot under the table\nand kicked her slightly.\n\n\"I've got a secret,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Tell it to me,\" said Stella.\n\n\"It's a big secret.\"\n\n\"If you won't tell, I won't give you any of my Flinch candy.\"\n\nJimmy was silent a moment as he gave this thought. Then he leaned\nforward and whispered,\n\n\"Mr. Trask moved last night.\"\n\n\"He always moves,\" replied Stella, unimpressed.\n\n\"I mean really moved. Toward Mr. Maudsley.\"\n\nStella choked on her porridge and the spoon all but slipped from her\nhand. She stared with wide open eyes. \"He didn't.\"\n\nTheir whispers broke off as Mr. Tapping strode across the kitchen and\ntook his place at the head of the table. A heavy-set unimaginative man\nwho seldom entered into conversation with the children, he eyed them\nspeculatively. But he said nothing and began to eat his eggs and thick\nstrips of bacon. He ate slowly and methodically, keeping his eyes to\nthe table. When he had finished his coffee, he settled back to light\nhis pipe. He passed the match back and forth across the bowl with quiet\ndeliberation.\n\n\"Who's Mr. Maudsley and who's Mr. Trask?\"\n\nHis wife smiled. \"Those are just the names the children have given the\nscarecrows.\"\n\n\"What scarecrows?\"\n\n\"The one in our field and the one on Edmund's land.\"\n\nMr. Tapping considered this while strong curls of strong tobacco smoke\nrose about him.\n\n\"Why those names? Why not Brown and Smith?\"\n\n\"Because those are their names,\" explained Stella patiently.\n\nMr. Tapping cogitated on the mysteries of the juvenile mind. Abruptly\nhe remembered the section of pasture fence that needed repairing and\ngot to his feet.\n\nBut it was nearly noon before he got around to fence fixing, and then\nhe had but one wire stapled when he heard a \"halloo\" and, turning, saw\nold Jason Southby hobbling across the field toward him.\n\nJimmy, who was holding the wire for his father, let go the pliers and\njoined Stella who was trying to capture a bumble bee in a fruit jar.\n\n\"Howdy,\" said old Jason, reaching the fence. \"Got a couple of helpers,\nI see.\"\n\nMr. Tapping smiled and nodded his greeting.\n\n\"I came over to ask if you're goin' to post your property for\nno-huntin' this year.\"\n\n\"Don't think so,\" replied Mr. Tapping. \"Aren't many grouse, and I don't\nexpect there'll be many hunters.\"\n\n\"No,\" agreed old Jason, \"the birds are dyin' out. It ain't like the old\ndays.\"\n\nMr. Tapping nodded.\n\n\"Remember when Maudsley was here. Things was different then.\"\n\n\"Who did you say?\" said Mr. Tapping.\n\n\"Maudsley,\" repeated old Jason. \"He owned your farm twenty ... thirty\nyears ago.\"\n\nMr. Tapping shook his head. Maudsley, eh? Jimmy and Stella must have\nheard the name from one of the neighbors' children.\n\n\"Yep,\" continued old Jason. \"Maudsley had this place, and Trask rented\nthe strip across the road.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"Quite a story about them two.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nMr. Tapping said nothing. There would be no hurrying old Jason; and\nno stopping him either. The man obviously had a tale to tell, and he\nwas enjoying every moment of this prelude. He bit off a piece of plug\ntobacco, chewed a moment and spat.\n\n\"It was corn that started it,\" he said. \"Maudsley was a great one to\nfool around with hybrids, and he worked out an early variety he called\nMaudsley Number two. That ain't bein' planted any more, but in those\ndays it was well thought of.\n\n\"Then Trask moves into the farm across the road. Trask was from down\nsouth, from around New Orleans way, and he was fired up with all sorts\nof backwoods stuff. Pretty soon he began to fight with Maudsley about\nhow good his hybrid corn was. Seems Trask believed the only way to\ngrow good crops was by usin' voodoo spells. Got so them two couldn't\ncome into sight of each other without startin' an argument. One day\nTrask got so mad he let his cattle loose in Maudsley's cornfield.\nThat settled it. Maudsley headed for Trask's place, armed with a\ndouble-barreled shotgun. But before he got there, Trask made himself\ninvisible.\"\n\n\"He did what?\" demanded Mr. Tapping.\n\n\"Well anyway, that's the story Maudsley spread around. Funny thing is,\nfolks believed him. He said Trask, bein' from New Orleans country, knew\nall sorts of voodoo spells, and he said that Trask, bein' afraid, had\ncast a spell over himself to make himself vanish. 'Course some persons\nwere suspicious and the sheriff asked Maudsley some questions. But\nMaudsley proved his shotgun hadn't been fired, and no one had seen him\ncommit any crime. Trask was never seen around these parts again. After\nthat Maudsley got to actin' sorta queer: lookin' over his shoulder,\ntalkin' to himself. Then one day he up and cleared out, and the next\nanything was heard of him he had moved south to New Orleans, the very\nplace Trask had come from. Maudsley is still down there; he wouldn't\ncome back even long enough to complete the sale of his farm.\" Jason's\nvoice died off as he reached the end of his story.\n\n\"Did you hear what he said?\" said Jimmy in a low voice.\n\n\"Sure.\" Stella rose triumphant from capturing her bumble bee. \"I knew\nit all the time.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt rained the next night and even with the spyglass Jimmy could see\nnothing in the cornfields. But he knew the two scarecrows were out\nthere, and he could imagine them standing in the rain with beads of\nwater dripping from their hats. The muddy water would be running in\nrivulets between the rows of shocked corn and when the lightning\nflashed the shocks would gleam dully like so many stacked guns at an\narmy encampment.\n\nNext day after lunch Jimmy drew his sister aside.\n\n\"If you don't tell anybody I'll show you the present I've got for Mr.\nMaudsley. Promise?\"\n\n\"I promise,\" said Stella.\n\nJimmy led the way into the barn and in the rear near one of the horse\nstalls, swept aside a covering of hay. He picked up a long rusty knife\nand displayed it with an air of pride. Stella was disappointed.\n\n\"Just an old knife.\"\n\n\"It's a voodoo knife, that's what it is. See the way the handle is\ncarved.\"\n\nStella looked and saw a yellowed handle of what once might have been\nivory, carved in the shape of a running goat with several quasi-human\nfaces low down near the hilt.\n\n\"What are you going to do with it?\" she said.\n\n\"I told you. Give it to Mr. Maudsley. It's his.\"\n\n\"How do you know it's his?\"\n\n\"This is Mr. Maudsley's barn, isn't it? Besides, it was near his other\nstuff.\"\n\nStella was not enthusiastic. \"Papa won't like it. He got mad when you\nnailed that pie-tin to Mr. Maudsley's hand.\"\n\n\"Papa won't know a thing about it. Come on.\"\n\nIt was hot in the cornfield. The morning sun beat down fiercely and the\nair smelled of damp earth. The ground between the rows of stubble was\nmarked with tiny channels the running water had cut the night before.\nBut the shocks were dry again and in the slight breeze they whispered\nand rustled gently. The two children made a bee-line for the center\nof the field until they came to the two cross boards that served as a\nframework for the scarecrow.\n\nThe scarecrow was fashioned of some old clothing which had once\nbelonged to a fat man--overalls, a coat of what might have been a\nSunday suit at one time, and an ancient felt hat--castaways which the\nchildren had found in the barn. The cardboard face, marked in black\ncrayon, a little blurred now from the rain, had been copied by Jimmy\nfrom an old photograph the boy had come upon among some old papers\nwhen he had cleaned out the attic. Jimmy had decided that even a crow\nwouldn't be fooled by a faceless scarecrow.\n\nJimmy was about to climb the upright shaft when Stella stopped him.\n\n\"Wait,\" she said. \"Let's not give Mr. Maudsley the knife.\"\n\n\"Why not? It's his.\"\n\n\"_Let's give it to Mr. Trask._\"\n\nThe boy's jaw dropped as the enormity of the idea grew upon him. Then\nhe uttered a squeal of delight.\n\nLaughing and giggling, the two children turned and ran down and vaulted\nthe fence that enclosed the aisle of shocks to the road and adjacent\nfield.\n\nFive minutes later the second scarecrow brandished a knife at the end\nof one of its handless sleeves.\n\nBut as Jimmy came out on the road again, he looked across at Mr.\nMaudsley. In full view in the sunlight, it wasn't a cardboard face now;\nit was a round full face, with great folds of fat, and it was twisted\nin an expression of stark fear.\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nFor three nights the skies over the Tapping farm were black, and a cold\nwind huffing down from the north kept the children indoors where they\nplayed endless games of parchesi. On the fourth night the moon broke\nthrough the clouds.\n\nJimmy, squatting by the window, the spyglass to his eye, stared out at\nthe two scarecrows. At intervals he thought he saw Mr. Trask descend\nfrom the mounting pole, leap up over the shocks and begin his strange\ndance. But at the instant those capers began, the clouds always managed\nto blot out the light, and the boy never could be sure if it was a\ntrick of his eye or the glass.\n\nAnd then Jimmy observed two things. With him in his gyrations Mr. Trask\ncarried the knife, and as he darted back and forth, he edged almost\nimperceptibly toward Mr. Maudsley.\n\nThe boy watched a long time to confirm his fears. Then he turned and\nran to his sister's room.\n\n\"Mr. Trask is getting closer,\" he said. \"You'd better come see.\"\n\nAt the window Stella spent several moments focusing the glass. Slowly\nher body went rigid, and she uttered a hoarse exclamation.\n\n\"He's going to kill Mr. Maudsley.\"\n\nThe boy nodded, his eyes shining with terror.\n\n\"We've got to try and stop him!\"\n\nShe turned and ran down the stairs and through the lower floor rooms\nto the back door. Jimmy ran after her. Crossing the yard, they sped\nhalfway down the lane, then pushed through the cedar windbreak and\nveered toward the cornfield. Pumpkins, golden in the moonlight, rose up\non either side as they raced up the incline.\n\nSuddenly Stella drew up short. \"Look!\"\n\nMr. Trask had crossed the road and now was coming full tilt through the\nrow of shocks. Jimmy, arms spread wide, threw himself forward to block\nthe onrushing figure's path. He had a brief impression of a blurred\nshadow bowling toward him and passing through him while he struck out\nwith his small fists ineffectually. Behind there was a ripping of cloth\nand a hoarse scream.\n\nStella came running to where Jimmy stood. Together they saw two shadows\nlocked in an incredible embrace. Like a scythe raised aloft, Mr.\nTrask's knife swept downward in a wide arc and with a quick stroke cut\noff Mr. Maudsley's head. Mr. Maudsley's hat flew up, Mr. Maudsley's\nhead rolled off, and a thin cry of triumph welled up and faded.\n\nAnd then there was nothing, except that Mr. Trask was back on one side\nof the fence, and Mr. Maudsley was on the other, minus his head, of\ncourse.\n\n\"Gee!\" said Stella.\n\n\"Golly!\" said Jimmy. He ran over to pick up Mr. Maudsley's hat; Jimmy\ntried to put Mr. Maudsley's head back but somehow it wouldn't stick.\n\n\"We'll fix it in the morning,\" said Jimmy.\n\nAt the edge of the field Jimmy paused and caught his sister's arm\nanxiously. \"You won't tell, Stella?\"\n\n\"No of course not.\"\n\n\"Cross your heart...?\"\n\n\"Cross my heart and hope to die.\"\n\n       *       *       *       *       *\n\nIt was night of the next day and the children sat playing parchesi.\nMrs. Tapping was knitting. Mr. Tapping, settled back in the platform\nrocker, was reading the newspaper aloud, as was his custom. Outside,\nMr. Trask was in one field, and Mr. Maudsley was in the other; his\nhead was back in place, but only tied on--it was not the same; it\nlooked very dead, even though Jimmy and Stella had done their best.\n\n\"Any news?\" asked Mrs. Tapping.\n\n\"Same old stuff. New taxes, one of them foreign countries talkin' big\nand threatenin' war,\" said Mr. Tapping. \"One thing here, though--they\nfound a fellow with his head cut off right in the middle of a city\nstreet.\"\n\n\"My land! Not here in Akerstown?\"\n\nMr. Tapping laughed. \"Lord, no! Happened way down in New Orleans.\"","title":"The Dangerous Scarecrow","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":2751}