"She don't want
ter see you again."
"Why not?"
"I don't know, but she told me she'd run away if I ever even
talked to you about her."
"You needn't talk, Jim; I'll talk for myself. Where is she?"
"She'll be comin' out soon. You can wait around out here with
me. I'll let you know in time." He led the way through a narrow
passage between the wagons.
Jim and Douglas had barely left the lot when Deacon Elverson's
small, round head slipped cautiously around the corner of the
dressing tent. The little deacon glanced exultantly about him.
He was monarch of all he surveyed. It was very thrilling to
stand here, on this forbidden ground, smelling the saw- dust,
gazing at the big red wagons, studying the unprotected circus
properties, and listening to the lightening tempo of the band.
"Did you see him?" shouted Strong, who had followed closely upon
Elverson's heels.
The little deacon started. Strong was certainly a disturbing
factor at times.
"Yes, I--I saw him."
"Well?"
"He--he--didn't see HER."
"What DID he do?" Strong was beside himself with impatience.
"He--he just talked to the big 'un, and went out that way."
Elverson nodded toward the wagons.
"I guess he ain't gone far," sneered Strong. "He come over to
this lot to see her, and he ain't goin' ter give up till he does
it.
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