CHAPTER VI
CIRCUS TALK
Andy knew that the circus actor's vehement statement was anexaggeration, still there was no doubting the fact that he was intenselypleased and grateful.
"I found those things in the handkerchief over near the dressing tent,"explained Andy.
"I must have dropped them there, or they got kicked out under the flapin hustling the baggage around," cried the man. "Here, kid."
The speaker made a motion towards his side, as if reaching for a vestpocket.
"I forgot," he laughed. "I have my ring togs on. Come along, I'll borrowsome coin for you."
"Oh, no," demurred Andy, "I don't want any pay."
"Don't?" propounded the man in astonishment. "I want to do something foryou. I'm the Man with the Iron Jaw, and that hard rubber device is whatI hold in my mouth when I go up the rope, see?"
"And that rabbit's foot?" insinuated Andy, guessing.
"Hoodoo. Don't grin, kid. If you were in the profession you'd understandthat a fellow values a charm that has carried him safe over Fridays,thirteenths, rotten trapezes and cyclones. We're a superstitious bunch,you know, and I'm no wiser than the rest. Why see here, of course youwant to see the show, don't you?"
"I just do," admitted Andy with alacrity--"if it can be arranged."
"Come with me."
"Yes, sir."
Andy readily followed after his gymnastic acquaintance. A word at thedoor flap of the performers' tent admitted them without challenge.
Andy took a keen, interested look around. Near two stands holding silverstarred boxes was a performer in costume, evidently the conjurer of theshow. Beyond him, seated daintily on a large white horse, was a prettywoman of about thirty, waiting her call to the ring.
A great-muscled fellow sat on a stool surrounded by enormous balls anddumb bells--the "Strong Man" of the circus.
A trick elephant was being fed by its keeper at once side of the tent.Nearby was a young man dressed as a jockey, holding the chains leadingto the collars of a dozen performing dogs.
Andy had a good memory. He knew from her resemblance to the posters hehad seen, that the lady on the white horse was Miss Stella Starr, "thedashing equestrienne."
She seemed to be on good terms with everybody, particularly with Andy'snew acquaintance.
"Who is your friend, Marco?" she asked, as the man passed by her.
He explained, with a great many excited gestures. Then he beckoned toAndy as the equestrienne smiled pleasantly at him.
"You bunk right there, kid," said Marco, stowing Andy behind a pile ofseat planks that lined the side of the canvassed passageway joining theperformers' tent with the main one.
Andy promptly climbed up on top of the heap of boards. The curtain thatseparated the two circus compartments was festooned at one side. Justbeyond was the orchestra. Andy could look over their heads and pastthem, with a perfect view of the performing ring.
He gave himself up so completely to the enjoyment of the grand privilegeaccorded him, that for one engrossing, bewildering hour he seemed in adreamland of rare delight.
Everything went smoothly and neatly. The various acts were new, andcleverly performed.
When it came to Stella Starr's turn, Andy witnessed a second exhibitionof the superstitious folly of these strange circus folk.
The equestrienne sharply halted the man who led her horse forward for adash into the ring.
"Back him--instantly," she called out. "Right foot first over the deadline. I wouldn't start on a left foot _entree_ for the whole day'sproceeds."
The imperious mandate was obeyed, and Andy raptly witnessed somebareback riding that made his heart quicken and his eyes flash withpleasure and admiration.
Miss Stella Starr had two acts. When she retired from the ring, kissingher little hands prettily to the applauding audience, the manager turnedher horse again facing the curtain in the canvassed passageway.
The equestrienne sank gracefully to a rest on the flank of the big whitehorse, patting him affectionately, while some hands began rolling greattubs into the ring.
These were to form a pyramid, up one side of which and down the otherthe white horse was to pass.
Suddenly, as Andy's interest was divided between the ring and theequestrienne, a sharp crack rang out. It was accompanied by a swishing,ominous, tearing sound.
An uneasy murmur swayed the audience. The manager ran out into the ring,swiftly glanced at the centre pole, and drawing a whistle from hispocket gave three piercing blasts.
"It's a wind storm," Andy heard some one remark.
A second gust swayed the centre pole. The great spreads of canvas bulgedand flapped. The audience arose in their seats.
Andy saw the manager seize a great megaphone near the band stand. Heshouted:
"Preserve order. There is no danger. Keep your seats. It is only apassing gust of wind. Play! play!" he shouted frantically to the band.
"Take care!" shouted the man, Marco, with a look through the outsideflap, "she's coming again!"
A sudden tumult fell on the air. Shrieks, yells, a great babel arosefrom the audience. The centre pole creaked and swayed dangerously. Then,with a sharp rip the canvas roof over Andy's head was wrenched fromplace and went sailing up into the air.
A heavy wooden cross-piece running between two supports had been tornloose at one end. The rope securing it whipped about and struck Andyin the face.
He dodged, and was about to leap to the ground, when a sharp cry fromStella Starr announced a new peril.
The free end of the heavy cross piece was descending with the force of adriven sledge hammer. She was directly within range. Andy saw herdanger, jumped erect, grabbed at the rope whipping about, and pulled ittowards himself.
As the equestrienne shrank to the neck of the trembling horse upon whichshe sat, the timber just grazed her spangled hair. It struck the groundand tore loose above. Its other end hit the pile of seat planks witha crash.
Andy felt them topple. He tried to steady himself, to jump aside. He wascaught in the tumble and went headlong to the sawdust, the planksfalling on top of him.