JACK’S TRICK
Hurrying to the dressing-tent, but taking good care not to get within
sight of the professor, Jack quickly donned his clown suit.
“What’s up?” asked several of the other performers, who were lounging
about, or going over their trunks. “It isn’t time for the parade, is
it?”
“Not exactly,” replied Jack. “I just thought I’d get ready, though,”
for, though a number of the circus people knew something of his story,
he did not think it wise to tell why he was going to dress up so early.
“Ted Chester or the ringmaster would give me up to him as quick as a
wink,” thought our hero, “and I’m not going to submit to arrest now.”
He went on with his make-up, and was daubing the red and white paint on
his face when Sam Kyle came into the tent.
“Making up early, aren’t you?” asked Sam, looking at his watch.
“A little,” admitted Jack. “But I wanted to be ready in time. Then I
guess I’ll practice some new stunts with my flying machine.”
“Humph! You can practice a good deal better in your regular clothes
than you can in that suit,” remarked Sam.
But Jack gave no reason for his peculiar action. When he was all rigged
out, ready to take his place on the wagon, or enter the ring, he
ventured out of the tent.
“I wonder if the professor would know me if he saw me now,” he thought.
“Guess I’ll walk about and see if I can catch sight of him. I’ll have
to be cautious, though.”
He strolled about the circus grounds, attracting considerable attention
from a number of small boys, for there were no other performers in
sight so early in the morning. Jack walked about, keeping watch for the
professor, and when he did not observe him he began to breathe easier.
He was glad when the time came to get up on the wagon, and take his
place among the clowns who played the odd musical instruments.
Just as the procession started from the circus grounds to parade
through the streets, he caught sight of his guardian, hurrying along,
and peering about anxiously through his big spectacles.
“He’s looking for me,” decided Jack. “Queer how he should be so
vindictive. He must know I wouldn’t steal his old cup. I wish he’d go
back home. It’s no fun to fear every minute that you’re going to be
arrested.”
To better screen himself from the professor’s gaze, in case the elderly
man should inspect the clown wagon too closely, our hero placed his
trumpet to his lips, and began to blow. This was a signal for the other
oddly attired performers to begin, and soon the wagon passed beyond
where Mr. Klopper was standing.
“I’m safe for a while, anyhow,” mused Jack. “It was a good thing I
thought of this trick.”
When the procession returned to the grounds most of the performers
began to remove their suits, and the clowns washed the paint from their
faces, as it would be some time before the afternoon performance would
start.
Jack, however, remained in his clown suit, with the coloring matter
still thick on his face.
“Going to stay that way until you get your cue?” asked a fellow clown.
“I--I guess so,” replied Jack. “Might as well. It won’t be long.”
“Too long for me,” was the reply. “I get enough of it as it is. No
paint for mine until the last minute, and off it comes as soon as I’m
through.”
But Jack had a good reason for keeping his on. His own mother would
not have known him in his present costume. To avoid the many questions
of the other performers, who could not understand the boy’s action,
Jack, after a hasty dinner, went into the main tent, which was now up,
and pretended to be adjusting his imitation airship. He remained there
until almost time for the afternoon show to start, and then he started
back to the dressing-tent to await the blast of the trumpets that
summoned the company of clowns.
As he was coming out of the main tent he almost ran into a man who was
standing on the outside, near the dressing-rooms. Jack started back in
surprise, for, as the man turned, he saw that he was none other than
Professor Klopper.
“I beg your pardon!” exclaimed the former college teacher, “but I am
looking for a friend of mine--a young lad--who, I understand, is with
this circus. He ran away to join it, and I wish to find him about a
very particular matter. Can you tell me where he is? His name is Jack
Allen.”
Jack almost stopped breathing. He could scarcely believe that the
professor would not recognize him.
Not daring to trust his voice to make reply, and fearing the professor
would know his tones, if he did not know his ward’s face under the
coating of paint, Jack shook his head to answer in the negative, and
hurried on.
“One moment,” exclaimed the professor. “Perhaps you----”
[Illustration: “I am looking for a friend of mine”
_Page 148_]
But Jack, still vigorously shaking his head, passed into the tent. He
knew the professor, nor any other outsider, would not be allowed to
enter there.
“My, that was a close call!” exclaimed the youth to himself, as he
applied a little more paint where it had been rubbed off as he brushed
against a tent flap. “I’ll put it on good and thick,” he decided. “I
can’t take any chances. He’ll be in the audience watching for me, sure.”
He used more paint than he ever had before, and succeeded in securing a
very comical effect, which added to his queer appearance.
His nervousness and fear did not prevent him from giving a good
performance, and, as he went to the different parts of the ring, doing
his turn with the airship, he looked anxiously among the throng to see
if he could observe the professor. But it was impossible to pick out
any particular individual in that big audience, and Jack felt safe, at
least for the time being.
After the performance, instead of removing his costume and washing
off the paint, he remained attired as he was in his clown outfit. His
friends tried to find out why he kept it on all day, but he did not
tell them.
“He’s getting crazy, that’s what’s the matter with him,” said Ted
Chester, with a sneer. “He’s so stuck on his act that he thinks all
the people are looking at him.”
“That’s usually the way you are,” commented Sam Kyle. “You can’t throw
any stones, Ted.”
“Aw, who’s talking to you?” demanded Ted, in surly tones.
But in spite of the many questions asked him, as to his reason, Jack
kept his suit on. Nor did he go out of the dressing-tent any more
than he had to, for he thought the professor might be strolling about
looking for him.
Whether or not his former guardian was on the lookout that afternoon
and evening, Jack did not then find out. His one fear was lest the
professor should go to the manager of the circus and make inquiries,
for, in that event, the runaway boy would have been discovered. But Mr.
Klopper evidently did not think of that, and when the show was over
that night, and Jack found he had not been detected, he breathed a sigh
of relief.
“Well, I should think you’d be glad to get those togs off,” remarked
Sam, when Jack resumed his regular clothes, and started for the train.
“I am,” was the answer, but Jack said nothing more, and Sam wondered
what was coming over his protégé.
But if Jack had only known what the professor had to tell him, how
willingly would the boy have revealed himself! Mr. Klopper had come to
the circus, not only to find our hero, but also to impart some valuable
information. But now the news was lost to the boy.