“All right; take me there.”
This was done, and then Leo sent the man to the other hotel, at which the higher class of circus performers were stopping, for the valise which contained his ordinary clothing.
He was still so upset in mind that he knew not what to do. Having engaged his room, he entered it and locked the door, and gave himself up to his reflections.
What should he do? Ah, that was the question. He had said that perhaps he could clear himself. How should he go to work to do it?
For fully an hour Leo pondered over the situation. Then he walked downstairs, left the hotel, and sauntered back to the circus grounds.
He kept his eyes and ears open in a vain endeavor to learn something to his advantage. The ticket thieves had taken warning, and not the slightest clew to them could be unearthed.
Leo passed a sleepless night at the hotel. Before he arose the “Greatest Show on Earth” had left the town.
“I’m out of it now,” he sighed. “Out of it, too, with a stain upon my name.” He bit his quivering lip until the blood came. “I can’t keep on following the circus around trying to clear myself, for I haven’t money enough.”
Yet Leo was not willing to give up, and that afternoon he took the stage to the next town, where the “Greatest Show on Earth” was stopping. Once more he hung around, and again nothing came of it. Sick at heart, he returned to the Eagle Hotel, wondering what he should do next.
At the hotel he found a man awaiting him—a sharp, shrewd individual, who introduced himself as Nathan Wampole.