"It was about ninth down the list yesterday afternoon," he mused,
softly. "They begin the show about eight o'clock. It's now about nine. I
calculate the Benares Brothers come on this evening at about a quarter
to ten. Four miles. I can run that in half an hour. Yes, I shall be
in time."

Andy pressed his arms to his sides, took breath to conserve his staying
powers, and maintained a steady, telling pace.

The lights of Centreville began to show nearer. He heard a town bell
strike the half-hour as he came in sight of the grounds and the
illuminated big tent of the show.

The band inside was blaring away. The side shows were not doing much
business. Some were getting ready for the removal. There were not many
people around the main entrance. Andy, quite breathless, rushed up to
the ticket taker there.

"I want to go in for just a minute," he said--"I must see the manager."

"Cut for it--no gags go here," retorted the man rudely.

"It's pretty important. Here," began Andy. Then he paused in dismay. "Oh
dear!" he spoke to himself, "I never put on my coat, that I used as a
pillow back in that barn."

In the hurry and excitement of the occasion Andy had left the coat among
the hay bales. Just before arranging his bed he had stowed the marble
bag containing the balance of Graham's five dollars in a pocket of