"Let us try to look into the dressing-room and see what is going on," suggested Snap.
The four boys watched their chance, and walking around the main tent, crawled under some slanting seats and then got close to the canvas that divided the main tent from that used by the performers in "making up."
"Grandy, you must know what became of the little rascal," they heard the ringmaster say. "He came in here."
"So he did, sir," was the answer of a canvasman. "But he didn't stay.
He just caught up some clothing and dusted."
"What! Ran away?"
"He dusted. I don't know where he went."
"Humph! He wouldn't dare to run away. If he tries that game I'll take his hide off when. I catch him."
"He couldn't run very far, Mr. Jones—-he was too weak."
"Bah! He isn't sick. He wants to shirk his act, that's all. Just wait till I get hold of him—-I'll teach him to get me into hot water with the audience!" fumed the ringmaster.
"Well; I don't know where he went," answered the canvasman, and resumed his work on the wall of the menagerie tent. Then the ringmaster walked to another part of the dressing-tent to put on his street clothing, for he did not dare appear in the ring again at that performance.