“Well, you’re not going to stay here all night, are you?” persisted Stetson.
Bobo ran to the door of his cage and seized the bars, shaking them as he did when the show was on.
“Why in hell can’t you leave me alone?” he screamed. “What do you care where I sleep? Don’t I do my work? And don’t I earn my pay? Then what you kicking about? Git along, and leave me alone; I’m sleepy.”
Stetson looked at the two Poole brothers, one of whom made a sign, and the three men withdrew.
“Looks as if we’d have the genuine article, instead of a fake, in a week or two more,” observed the elder Poole to the manager.
He had been in the show business for some years, and wasn’t easily shocked.
During the next few weeks the freaks had many causes for complaint. The Bearded Lady claimed that Bobo had spit at him when he went by the cage. But the Bearded Lady was a man of sensitive disposition, and easily offended.
There were other things more serious, however. Mlle. Mille, one of the albinos, showed Stetson a black and blue spot on her arm where the wild man had struck her when she was putting on her wig, and the snake charmer threatened to leave the show if Bobo was not locked in his cage.
One night, therefore, when the wild man was asleep, three of the attendants stole into the tent and snapped a couple of strong padlocks through the staple in the door.
It was a good thing that they did; for the next day Bobo had a crazy fit before the show opened up, during which he tried to tear his cage to pieces. It proved a great attraction, though; for the country people outside heard him raving, and the tent was soon packed.