"See the show! Why, that's the main object of going to Parkertown," responded Frank. "I wouldn't miss it for anything. They've got a fellow in it, according to the pictures, who can stand on his head, hold a man in each hand, balance two others on his legs, hold one by a strap in his mouth—and all the while he's on a trapeeze at the top of the tent. It's great!"
"Well, maybe he can give you a few pointers," said Dick.
It was about an hour's run to Parkertown, and when the train reached the circus grounds there was a general rush to the big tents. It lacked about an hour to noon, and though the show had not opened yet there was much of interest to see. Dick and Frank watched the men putting finishing touches to the immense canvas shelters, while others were feeding the animals, getting the big gilded wagons into place, and arranging the sideshows.
In one tent hundreds of the performers and helpers were at dinner, while a curious crowd looked on under the raised flaps. The two boys, in company with scores of others, watched the cooks of the circus at work over the portable ranges and soup kettles, where it seemed as though enough food for an army was being prepared.
"Say, it's great, isn't it!" exclaimed Frank. "I can hardly wait until it's time to begin. Let's go get a hot frankfurter sausage somewhere."
"I'm afraid I've got to leave you," replied Dick. "I have some business on hand. I'll see you later. Maybe in the main tent."
"All right," assented Frank, a little disappointed, but he soon forgot about that in watching the many scenes of interest.
"Where can I find the manager?" asked Dick, of a man who wore a uniform and seemed to be some one in authority.
"In the ticket wagon," was the reply. "But you needn't think you can deadhead in. The free list is suspended."
"I've no intention of asking for a pass," replied Dick, with a smile. "Is the manager in?" he asked, a moment later, of the man who looked out of the high ticket wagon.