Once, when a small circus had visited Fairview, he had gotten a free
pass by carrying buckets of water to the cook's tent.

He had now a vague hope that some such fortunate chance might turn up on
this new occasion.

Andy soon discovered, however, that the present layout was on a far
different scale to the second-class show he had seen at Fairview.

It was a city in itself. There were well-defined bounds as to the circus
proper. Ropes strung along iron stakes driven into the ground kept
curious visitors at a distance.

The performers' tent, the horse tents, the cook's quarters and the
sleeping space of the working hands were all guarded, and intruders
warned to keep their distance.

Everything was neat and clean, and a well-ordered system prevailed
everywhere.

The savory flavor of roasting meat made Andy desperately hungry. He saw
a fat, aproned cook hastily gathering up some chips near a chopping
block. Andy offered to split him some fresh wood, but received only an
ungracious:

"Get out! No trespassers allowed here."

Andy wandered about for a long time. He greatly envied a lad about his
own age who, adorned with a gilt-braided jacket, was walking a beautiful
Arabian steed up and down.