“I’ll look inter this here affair, an’ if that fat feller keeps meddlin’ inter other people’s business I’ll hand him somethin’ what he won’t never forgit.”
“A fine bit of gratitude for stopping the runaway elephants!” cried Tom.
“Mr. Whiffin is going to give you all free passes,” spoke up Victor, loudly. “Step right over to the box office and get ’em!”
The manager glared at the crowd.
“If that’s what ye’re after, pass straight along,” he snarled. “I wouldn’t want you in the show at fifty cents per. Like as not you’d stampede the whole menagerie!”
The furious blast of the ten thousand dollar band starting up made further conversation almost impossible. As though the music conveyed some signal to the brain of Mr. Whiffin and his protégé, they immediately started off, and, by the simple process of mingling with the crowd, were soon lost to sight.
“The automobile hasn’t bumped anything,” laughed Bob, “but a whole lot of things have bumped us.”
The boys, seeing that there would be no chance to interview the barker for some time, concluded to take the car to the nearest garage.
“I always knew that Dave could do a lot of things,” said Tom, as he climbed into the machine, “but who ever thought he could stand up before a crowd and talk like that?”
“And didn’t he look perfectly stunning in that red coat and pretty little cap?” remarked Charlie Blake, with a sly glance at each of the others. “Aren’t we the brainy chaps on this trip, though?”