What the result was of the manager’s talk to the mean clown and his crony, the ringmaster, Jack never heard. Evidently there was not proof enough to make certain the guilt of either of the two men, though when they came from the manager’s tent they looked worried and uneasy.
The affair resulted in one thing that benefited Jack, however, for, after that, neither the clown nor Mitz bothered him, though Ted Chester said mean things to his young rival every chance he got.
After that Jack was more than usually careful to look to all the ropes and other strengthening devices on the airship, as well as to the umbrella; for leaping off from such a height as he did it would not take much to cause him to take a terrible tumble.
The circus played a number of one-day stands through the lower part of Ohio, and then swinging around in a big circle, began to work back east. As the larger cities were reached they stayed longer in one place, in some remaining a week, which gave the performers and animals a chance to get a good rest.
Meanwhile, Jack had heard nothing more from the professor, nor about the efforts to cause an arrest for the theft of the gold cup. The young clown kept a wary eye out for the sight of a policeman who might be looking for him, and he was also on his guard against meeting Mr. Klopper.
But he need not have worried. The professor, after his one attempt to locate Jack, gave it up personally, though he tried other means to find the boy, for, as before stated, he had something very important to tell our hero.
The circus reached a town in western Pennsylvania one morning during quite a heavy storm. It had been raining off and on for a week, and the temper of all the employees and performers was tried by the unpleasant weather. A circus is quite a miserable place in the rain, for the usual crowds do not turn out, and everything seems to go wrong.
“I hope it clears up by this afternoon,” said Sam Kyle gloomily, as he left the breakfast tent, which leaked in places, and, with Jack, and some of the other clowns, looked up at the dull sky. “I’m sick of being wet through.”
The show had to go on, rain or shine, however, and the parade usually took place no matter how hard it stormed. This was very unpleasant for the performers, especially the clowns, as the paint would persist in running off their faces, giving them a streaked and bedraggled appearance, which, while it added to their funny aspect, was not just what they wanted.
“It looks as if it might clear,” said Jack hopefully. “The wind seems to be shifting.”