"Yes, sir," replied the orphan, swallowing again and trying not to cry. Seeing this, Notta turned a double somersault and stood on his head.
"And what is your name?" he asked, waving his legs cheerfully.
"Bobbie Downs," sniffed the orphan, with another swallow.
"How did you get it?" The clown dropped down beside the little boy.
"I think it came with me, sir," said Bobbie faintly.
"Well, if you don't mind, we'll change it to Bob Up—for that's what we've done—and Bob Up sounds more lively than Bobbie Downs, don't you think?"
While Notta was talking he was glancing anxiously around him. "Bob," he said finally, "I think we've fallen in with another circus. See, there are the tents, and I hear lions roaring."
"So do I," said Bobbie beginning to look more interested than frightened.
"Yes, it's either a circus or a sea shore without any sea," continued the clown, running his fingers through the sand. "But anyway, here I am and here you are, and so long as you are here we'll bob up together. Let's go on to the main tent and see the show."
Bobbie stood up and shook the water from his cap. They were both dripping wet from the storm they had passed through, but the sun and wind of this queer desert country soon dried them off and, conversing almost cheerfully, they trudged through the deep sand toward a large blue, striped tent.