Walking with his head down and his steps lagging, the old judge, turning into the main thoroughfare, was almost run over by a mare that came briskly along, drawing a light buggy with a tall man in it. The tall man pulled up the mare just in time. His name was Settle.
“By gum, judge,” he said apologetically, “I came mighty near gettin' you that time!”
“Hello, son,” said the judge absently; “which way are you headed?”
“Downtown, same as everybody else,” said Settle. “Jump in and I'll take you right down, sir.”
“Much obliged,” assented the old judge, as he heaved himself heavily up between the skewed wheels and settled himself so solidly at Settle's left that the seat springs whined; “but I wish't, if you're not in too big a hurry, that you'd drive me up by the showgrounds first.”
“Glad to,” said Settle, as he swung the mare round. “I just come from there myself—been up lookin' at the stock. 'Tain't much. Goin' up to look their stock over yourself, judge?” he asked, taking it for granted that any man would naturally be interested in horseflesh, as indeed would be a true guess so far as any man in that community was concerned.
“Stock?” said the judge. “No, I want to see the proprietor of this here show. I won't keep you waitin' but a minute or two.”
“The proprietor!” echoed Settle, surprised. “What's a circuit judge goin' to see a circus man for—is it something about their license?”
“No,” said the judge—“no, just some business—a little private business matter I want to see him on.”
He offered no further explanation and Settle asked for none. At the grounds the smaller tents were all up—there was quite a little dirty-white encampment of them—and just as they drove up the roof of the main tent rose to the tops of its center poles, bellying and billowing like a stage sea in the second act of Monte Cristo. Along the near edge of the common, negro men were rigging booths with planks for counters and sheets for awnings, and negro women were unpacking the wares that would presently be spread forth temptingly against the coming of the show crowds—fried chicken and slabs of fried fish, and ham and pies and fried apple turnovers. Leaving Settle checking the restive mare, the old judge made his way across the sod, already scuffed and dented by countless feet. A collarless, redfaced man, plainly a functionary of some sort, hurried toward him, and the judge put himself in this man's path.