It was some distance to the circus grounds, but the way seemed all too short for Constable Spriggins, who felt like a man approaching an enemy's battery.
At length they came in sight of the circus grounds. Around the big tent were congregated a crowd of men and boys, and a stream of people was already marching up to the box office to buy tickets, while hitched to trees and posts were carriages and wagons of all descriptions which had been employed to convey intending spectators from the town round about. Nothing draws like a circus in the country, or perhaps we may add in the city also.
"There's goin' to be a crowd," remarked the constable.
"Yes; fools and their money are soon parted. I never went to a circus in all my life. It's all foolery."
"I went once when I was a boy, and I liked it. I little thought under what circumstances I should make my second visit," said Spriggins, ruefully.
"Circuses are wicked, in my opinion," said Tarbox. "I'd close 'em all up if I could; we'll do what we can to stop this."
By this time they had got into the crowd at the entrance.
Instead of going up to the ticket office to purchase tickets they passed on, and reached the doorway where stood a man to receive tickets.
"Where's your tickets?" demanded he of Spriggins and his companion.