"Is the marshall there? Tell him to come in before he gets violent."
The side door opened, and a town marshall, with a big nickel-plated star on his coat, entered the wagon.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick, somewhat surprised at the sudden turn of events.
"There! there!" spoke the manager, soothingly. "It's all right. Don't get excited. You're with friends."
"Don't you want this check?" asked Dick. "I'm in earnest. I want your circus to come to Hamilton Corners."
"Yes, yes, of course, my dear boy. We'll come. I'll let you ride on one of the elephants. You can feed the monkeys, and tickle the hippopotamus, if you like. Poor boy," in lower tones, "so young, too."
"Say," demanded Dick, standing up, "do you think I'm crazy?"
"There! there!" repeated the manager, in that soothing tone he had suddenly adopted. "Please don't get excited. It's the worst thing in the world for you."
Dick glanced up at the man in uniform. Then a smile came over his face that had assumed a rather angry look.
"Why, Marshall Hinckly!" he exclaimed. "How did you come to be here?"