Andy Carter, as it turned out, was playing his part in good faith. Perhaps he reasoned that he had been sufficiently treacherous, and that the very least he could do was to wind up a bad business on the square.
The basket, removed by him from the canvas wagon to prevent the Hindoo from making off with it, had been carried to a clump of bushes not far from the railroad tracks, on the north side of the show grounds, and covered with a pile of broken sticks and other refuse.
Men were already pulling down some of the auxiliary tents and loading them into wagons and driving the wagons to the waiting train. The elephants and nearly all the animal cages had been loaded, while the band wagons and the "chariots" had been stowed in their cars late in the afternoon.
"I suppose you're through with me, now?" inquired Carter, after Burton had secured the basket.
"I will be," said Burton, "as soon as I make sure that all the money is here."
"You'll be too late to catch the Hindoo," demurred Carter, "if you insist on going back to the wagon and counting over all that stuff."
"Then we'll lay the Hindoo by the heels before we count it. You can go with us, Carter. It'll do you good to see the fellow caught."
"He'll kill me!" declared Carter, drawing back.
"I guess he won't. There are too many of us for him to cut up very rough."