"I found those things in the handkerchief over near the dressing tent,"
explained Andy.

"I must have dropped them there, or they got kicked out under the flap
in hustling the baggage around," cried the man. "Here, kid."

The speaker made a motion towards his side, as if reaching for a vest
pocket.

"I forgot," he laughed. "I have my ring togs on. Come along, I'll borrow
some coin for you."

"Oh, no," demurred Andy, "I don't want any pay."

"Don't?" propounded the man in astonishment. "I want to do something for
you. I'm the Man with the Iron Jaw, and that hard rubber device is what
I hold in my mouth when I go up the rope, see?"

"And that rabbit's foot?" insinuated Andy, guessing.

"Hoodoo. Don't grin, kid. If you were in the profession you'd understand
that a fellow values a charm that has carried him safe over Fridays,
thirteenths, rotten trapezes and cyclones. We're a superstitious bunch,
you know, and I'm no wiser than the rest. Why see here, of course you
want to see the show, don't you?"

"I just do," admitted Andy with alacrity--"if it can be arranged."

"Come with me."