He jumped down from the hay bales and dashed out of the barn. Andy sped along the highway circus-ward at the top of his speed.
The situation had appealed to him in a flash. The two plotters had talked in plain English. There was no misunderstanding their motives and acts.
Andy had a vivid picture in his mind—the big circus tent four miles away. He could recall just where the Benares Brothers act came on the programme.
"It was about ninth down the list yesterday afternoon," he mused, softly. "They begin the show about eight o'clock. It's now about nine. I calculate the Benares Brothers come on this evening at about a quarter to ten. Four miles. I can run that in half an hour. Yes, I shall be in time."
Andy pressed his arms to his sides, took breath to conserve his staying powers, and maintained a steady, telling pace.
The lights of Centreville began to show nearer. He heard a town bell strike the half-hour as he came in sight of the grounds and the illuminated big tent of the show.
The band inside was blaring away. The side shows were not doing much business. Some were getting ready for the removal. There were not many people around the main entrance. Andy, quite breathless, rushed up to the ticket taker there.
"I want to go in for just a minute," he said—"I must see the manager."
"Cut for it—no gags go here," retorted the man rudely.
"It's pretty important. Here," began Andy. Then he paused in dismay. "Oh dear!" he spoke to himself, "I never put on my coat, that I used as a pillow back in that barn."