“I have always suspected where Brandon’s cash went,” chirped Victor.
After leaving the restaurant the boys wandered around town until it was time for Dave’s duties to begin. Tom would have had no objection to seeing another performance, but this idea receiving no encouragement from the others, he proposed going to a hotel.
“I’ve got some letters to write to the fellows at school,” he said.
The boys found a hotel near by, and, later on in the evening, leaving Tom hard at work scribbling, they strolled over to the circus grounds.
“Fellows,” laughed Dave, who had been looking for them, “I have resumed my occupation of gentleman and scholar. My connection with Ollie Spudger’s Great Combined Peerless Circus and Menagerie has unexpectedly ended. Jack Gray, having recovered his voice, will in future speak from the rostrum.”
“Well, it was a jolly good lark, anyway,” remarked Bob.
“How can you tear yourself away from Mister Joe Rodgers?” asked Victor.
“He’s a good little chap,” declared Dave, “and ought to amount to something if he should have an opportunity. There doesn’t seem much chance for him here, although Whiffin isn’t such a bad fellow when one gets to understand him.”
By the gracious permission of Mr. Ollie Spudger, the boys were permitted to enter the tent so that they might say good-bye to the young giant.
“Little” Georgy seemed almost on the point of blubbering as he shook hands. Joe Rodgers was soon found. Joe’s face wore a strange expression.