YOU know how time flies between the moment you open your sleepy eyes at six o’clock and the warning the first school bell gives at eight, which finds you just up from the breakfast table, with school togs yet to don and hair to give a final smoothing? Well, the minutes had fluttered by just as rapidly as that for Billy on this eventful morning. To be sure, he had spent needless time in prosecuting the search for Toppy. And before that, he had dallied long enough over his encounter with the lank lad he had left in such a muddy, muddy plight.
It was eight o’clock and after before he was aware, and booths were being opened by their owners, and their stock in trade arranged to best possible advantage to increase the sales of the day. Fakirs were already in evidence, choosing shady spots from which to hawk their wares.
Guards were on duty even this early, but now gathered in little social groups for a bit of gossip before their more arduous tasks of handling the great crowds should begin in real earnest.
Billy fully realized the risk he was running in being abroad on the nearly deserted grounds, for it made his presence uncomfortably conspicuous—and men are not disposed to view a goat with any too much favor. They know far too well the mischief of which they are capable.
“It will be by far the wisest thing for me to do to lay low,” cogitated Billy. “But I shall take care to find a more comfortable place than that low coop I occupied yesterday afternoon. Ugh!” and he fetched a shiver at the recollection, “I can feel the splinters pulling my coat even now.”
Shaking himself vigorously and pricking up his ears, he chose his way with care, proceeding down the street lined with exhibition halls, tents and booths.
“Appears to me I smell pop-corn! Just freshly popped, and with lots of sweet, rich butter, too! I can fairly taste it. Pop-corn! How I do like the snowy kernels!”
Following the appetizing odor, he soon found himself in front of a tiny booth, all gay with red and white bunting and flaunting flags at its four corners. Just outside stood the popper, the escaping steam singing its merry little song.
Billy eyed it a moment, sniffed the air, and then circled about the building to spy out the situation carefully.