“The menagerie is an exhibition in itself—a great collection of savage, fear-in-spir-ing animals, in gilded lairs, bringing to your very doors the inhabitants of the jungle—an ag-gre-gation of fe-rocious quadrupeds without parallel in the country.
“And all this can be seen for the small sum of ten cents, just one dime, an amount well within the means of every man, woman or child of Kenosha. Remember—ten cents—just one dime, to see all the curiosities. Reserved seats up to twenty-five cents. Pass along—get your tickets—get your tickets!”
Dave vigorously hammered the gong. Then the “Ten Thousand Dollars,” obeying another signal from Mr. Spudger, sent up a blast that threatened the safety of ear-drums.
Joe Rodgers, with a shrill “Gee, this must be a bully show, fellers!” flung over his shoulder, made a dive for the ticket wagon, followed by several young men whom Dave had noticed about the circus.
As though they possessed some strange magnetic force, many spectators seemed to be drawn irresistibly after them. The tent soon began swallowing up a steady flow of humanity, and when interest waned Dave promptly resumed his speaking.
He rose to greater heights this time, his clear, strong voice compelling attention. He told of the wonderful performing elephants; of Mademoiselle Hazel, queen of the slack wire, in her great danger-defying act, and of Professor Lopus and his extraordinary troupe of trained horses.
Joe and his associates were on hand, and, as before, at the important moment, started a stampede toward the “box office.”
Another repetition of the performance left standing at the entrance only a few disconsolate-looking people. Even Mr. Peter Whiffin could not altogether conceal his satisfaction at the success of Spudger’s new barker.
CHAPTER XIII
UNDER THE BIG TOP
“What’s that you say—a note for me?” queried Victor Collins.