“Well?”
“You must let me have fifty dollars on account. I’ll have to hang around the circus for awhile and lay my plans. It’s no fool of a job to do as you wish.”
“Here are thirty dollars. And one word more, Hank. Never mention my name in this, and if I were you, don’t ever let Leo Dunbar see you.”
“I’ll remember,” replied Griswold.
Ten minutes later he left Nathan Dobb’s house as secretly as he had entered it.
CHAPTER XII.—THE STOLEN CIRCUS TICKETS.
ON the following week the circus moved down through Pennsylvania. Fine weather favored the show, and the crowd at each performance was very large.
“This is going to be a banner season,” said Giles, the treasurer, “unless we get tripped up as we were last season.”
He referred to a serious matter, namely, that of thousands of stolen tickets, which during the previous summer had been secured and sold by outside speculators.
This season a few tickets had thus far been missing, but the number was not sufficient to cause a serious loss.