CHAPTER VII

A WARM RECEPTION


Andy Wildwood was knocked senseless. When he came back to consciousness
he found himself lying on a mattress in a little space surrounded by
canvas. It was one of the circus dressing rooms.

He sniffed camphor, and one side of his head felt stiff and sore.
Putting up his hand Andy discovered strips of sticking plaster there.

"Was I hurt?" he asked, sitting up.

"Circus doctor says not badly," promptly answered Marco, who stood by
the mattress. "How is it, kid? No bones broken?"

"Oh, no," answered Andy readily, getting to his feet. "Say, what
happened? The wind storm--"

"Gone over. It's sunshine outside now. A few hanks of thread will fix
the rips. The show went on all right after the squall. But say, you're a
daisy. That timber--oh, here she is to talk for herself."

Miss Stella Starr put in an appearance just here. She was neatly dressed
in street costume. Her eyes were very bright, and there was a grateful
smile on her womanly face as she grasped both of Andy's hands.

"You are a good boy," she said with enthusiasm. "Bring me a stool,