Andy readily followed after his gymnastic acquaintance. A word at the door flap of the performers' tent admitted them without challenge.
Andy took a keen, interested look around. Near two stands holding silver starred boxes was a performer in costume, evidently the conjurer of the show. Beyond him, seated daintily on a large white horse, was a pretty woman of about thirty, waiting her call to the ring.
A great-muscled fellow sat on a stool surrounded by enormous balls and dumb bells—the "Strong Man" of the circus.
A trick elephant was being fed by its keeper at once side of the tent. Nearby was a young man dressed as a jockey, holding the chains leading to the collars of a dozen performing dogs.
Andy had a good memory. He knew from her resemblance to the posters he had seen, that the lady on the white horse was Miss Stella Starr, "the dashing equestrienne."
She seemed to be on good terms with everybody, particularly with Andy's new acquaintance.
"Who is your friend, Marco?" she asked, as the man passed by her.
He explained, with a great many excited gestures. Then he beckoned to
Andy as the equestrienne smiled pleasantly at him.
"You bunk right there, kid," said Marco, stowing Andy behind a pile of seat planks that lined the side of the canvassed passageway joining the performers' tent with the main one.
Andy promptly climbed up on top of the heap of boards. The curtain that separated the two circus compartments was festooned at one side. Just beyond was the orchestra. Andy could look over their heads and past them, with a perfect view of the performing ring.