be a sinful waste of money to pay our way in.

With this idea in mind we went scouting round back of the main tent
to a comparatively secluded spot, and there we found a place where
the canvas side-wall lifted clear of the earth for a matter of four
or five inches. We held an informal caucus to decide who should
should go first. The honor lay between two of us--between the
present writer, who was reasonably skinny, and another boy, named
Thompson, who was even skinnier. He won, as the saying is, on
form. It was decided by practically a unanimous vote, he alone
dissenting, that he should crawl under and see how the land lay
inside. If everything was all right he would make it known by
certain signals and we would then follow, one by one.

Two of us lifted the canvas very gently and this Thompson boy started
to wriggle under. He was about halfway in when--zip!--like a
flash he bodily vanished. He was gone, leaving only the marks where
his toes had gouged the soil. Startled, we looked at one another.
There was something peculiar about this. Here was a boy who had
started into a circus tent in a circumspect, indeed, a highly cautious
manner, and then finished the trip with undue and sudden precipitancy.
It was more than peculiar--it bordered upon the uncanny. It was
sinister. Without a word having been spoken we decided to go away
from there.

Wearing expressions of intense unconcern and sterling innocence
upon our young faces we did go away from there and drifted back in
the general direction of the main entrance. We arrived just in
time to meet our young friend coming out. He came hurriedly, using
his hands and his feet both, his feet for traveling and his hands