Jack held the rope until the man took it from him, and fastened it properly.
“I’m much obliged to you,” he said gratefully to our hero. “Only for you the whole blamed business would have been on the ground.”
“You’re welcome,” answered Jack. Then a sudden idea came to him. “You don’t want any more helpers, do you?” he asked.
“Well, I do need a couple of hands,” was the rather unexpected answer. “If you want to stick around, and help out, I’ll give you a couple of tickets to the show.”
“I’ll do it,” replied Jack, for he had a further scheme he wanted to try and this just fitted in with it.
“All right,” spoke the man in charge of the tents. “Come with me. I’ll find something for you to do.”
Jack was soon engaged in helping put up other tents, in carrying gasoline torches here and there, filling them, and getting ready for the night performance, though the afternoon one had not yet been held. Several times the man who had engaged him came around to see how he was getting on.
“You’re all right, kid,” he said heartily. “You’ll do. I wish I had a few more like you. Here, just take this note over to the ticket wagon. Tell the man Ike Landon, the boss canvasman, sent you. He’ll give you a couple of good seats. I guess you can knock off now. We’re in pretty good shape.”
He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Jack, who took it over to the ticket wagon. It was drawing close to the time for the performance, and there was quite a throng in front of the gaudily painted vehicle.
As Jack was working his way through the press to the window, he heard a familiar voice ask: