“Will you fellows shut up?” cried Giles Frozzler.  “This show is all right.”

“Of course you’d say so—­you’re the feller wot put out them bills,” said the burly country boy.

“If you don’t like the show you can get out.”

“All right, Mr. Billman, give me back my quarter.”

“Yes, give me my quarter and I’ll go too,” put in one of the shopkeepers of Oak Run.

“And so will I go,” added a woman.

“Me, too,” came in a voice from the rear of the crowd.

“Oh, you people make me tired,” grumbled Giles Frozzler, and then, fearing that the people would really demand their money back he sneaked off, leaving the monkeys to continue the destruction of his head covering.

CHAPTER XV

ACTS NOT ON THE BILLS

It was now almost time for the ring performance to begin.  Dick had purchased so-called reserved seats for the crowd, paying an additional ten cents for each seat, but when they reached the tent with the ring they found that the reserved seats were merely a creation of fancy on the part of the circus owner.  Giles Frozzler had had imitation chair bottoms painted on the long boards used for seats and each of these buttons was numbered.

“This is a snide, sure,” said Sam.

“Well, there is one thing about it, they can’t crowd you,” answered Dick.  And that was the one advantage the “reserved seats” afforded.  On the common seats the spectators were crowded just as closely as possible, until the seats threatened to break down with the weight put upon them.

There was a delay in opening the ring performance and for a very good reason.  In the dressing tent Giles Frozzler was having great difficulty in persuading his leading lady rider and his clown to go on.  Both wanted their pay for the past two weeks.

“I shall not ride a step until I am paid,” said the equestrienne, with a determined toss of her head.

“And I don’t do another flip-flap,” put in the clown.

“Oh, come, don’t talk like that,” argued Giles Frozzler.  “I’ll pay you to-morrow, sure.”

“No.”

“I’ll pay you to-night—­just as soon as the performance is over.  Just see what a crowd we have—­the money is pouring in.”

At this the lady bareback rider hesitated, and finally said she would go on.  But the clown would not budge.

“I may be a clown in the ring, but not in the dressing room,” said he, tartly.  “I want my pay, or I don’t go on.”

“All right then, you can consider yourself discharged,” cried Giles Frozzler.

He had started in the circus business as a clown and thought he could very well fill his employee’s place for a day or two.  In the meantime he would send to the city for another clown whom he knew was out of a situation.

At last the show began with what Frozzler termed on his handbills the Grand Opening Parade, consisting of the two elephants, two ladies on horseback, two circus hands on horseback, the little bear, who was tame, and several educated dogs.  In the meantime the band, consisting of seven pieces, struck up a march which was more noise than harmony.