“It’s gone on.”
“Gone on? And—left—me—behind?”
He spoke more slowly, and he felt a queer sensation. A lump came into his throat. His eyes felt hot and heavy. Surely he couldn’t be going to cry? Of course not!
“Left—behind!” he murmured. “They left me behind!”
“Why, they couldn’t take you with them,” said the pretty young woman. “You couldn’t stand it to be moved, you know. But they felt dreadfully bad at leaving you.”
“Who did?” asked Jack dully.
“Oh, ever so many. There was one big man with a red tie, Mr. Rain, I think he said his name was.”
“Mr. Paine. That’s the manager.”
“Yes. Well, he gave orders that you should be taken good care of. Then there was a clown, I guess, for all the paint wasn’t washed off his face when he came here. He left a lot of addresses for you, where the show would be.”
“That was Sam Kyle.”