Andy made a rush, intent on getting under the canvas at all hazards. He
checked himself. If he succeeded in eluding the watchman outside, he
would have difficulty in getting to the manager. He might be captured
inside at once. He stood staring at the tent top in extreme anxiety
and suspense.

Shadows aloft enlightened him as to-what was going on. The Benares
Brothers were mounting aloft. He made them out bowing gracefully, pulled
up on the toe coils. He saw their outlines, trapeze-seated. The
orchestra struck up a new tune. The act was about to commence.

"I must stop them--I will warn them!" panted Andy with resolution. "If I
got to the manager he might not understand me or believe me. It might be
too late--there is not a minute to spare."

Andy was quivering with excitement, his eyes flashing, his face flushed.

He ran towards a guy rope, sprang up, caught at it, and hand over hand
rapidly ascended it.

Where it tapped the lower dip of the upper canvas, he transferred his
grasp.

A seam was here, held together by hook and ring clear to the gap at the
centre pole. This seam, Andy discerned, ran right over to the trapezes.

Andy scaled the course of the seam with the agility of a monkey, hooking
the rings with his fingers and pulling himself up. The canvas quivered,
shook and gave, but he did not heed that.