Andy took a keen, interested look around.  Near two stands holding silver starred boxes was a performer in costume, evidently the conjurer of the show.  Beyond him, seated daintily on a large white horse, was a pretty woman of about thirty, waiting her call to the ring.

A great-muscled fellow sat on a stool surrounded by enormous balls and dumb bells—­the “Strong Man” of the circus.

A trick elephant was being fed by its keeper at once side of the tent.  Nearby was a young man dressed as a jockey, holding the chains leading to the collars of a dozen performing dogs.

Andy had a good memory.  He knew from her resemblance to the posters he had seen, that the lady on the white horse was Miss Stella Starr, “the dashing equestrienne.”

She seemed to be on good terms with everybody, particularly with Andy’s new acquaintance.

“Who is your friend, Marco?” she asked, as the man passed by her.

He explained, with a great many excited gestures.  Then he beckoned to Andy as the equestrienne smiled pleasantly at him.

“You bunk right there, kid,” said Marco, stowing Andy behind a pile of seat planks that lined the side of the canvassed passageway joining the performers’ tent with the main one.

Andy promptly climbed up on top of the heap of boards.  The curtain that separated the two circus compartments was festooned at one side.  Just beyond was the orchestra.  Andy could look over their heads and past them, with a perfect view of the performing ring.

He gave himself up so completely to the enjoyment of the grand privilege accorded him, that for one engrossing, bewildering hour he seemed in a dreamland of rare delight.

Everything went smoothly and neatly.  The various acts were new, and cleverly performed.

When it came to Stella Starr’s turn, Andy witnessed a second exhibition of the superstitious folly of these strange circus folk.

The equestrienne sharply halted the man who led her horse forward for a dash into the ring.

“Back him—­instantly,” she called out.  “Right foot first over the dead line.  I wouldn’t start on a left foot entree for the whole day’s proceeds.”

The imperious mandate was obeyed, and Andy raptly witnessed some bareback riding that made his heart quicken and his eyes flash with pleasure and admiration.

Miss Stella Starr had two acts.  When she retired from the ring, kissing her little hands prettily to the applauding audience, the manager turned her horse again facing the curtain in the canvassed passageway.

The equestrienne sank gracefully to a rest on the flank of the big white horse, patting him affectionately, while some hands began rolling great tubs into the ring.

These were to form a pyramid, up one side of which and down the other the white horse was to pass.

Suddenly, as Andy’s interest was divided between the ring and the equestrienne, a sharp crack rang out.  It was accompanied by a swishing, ominous, tearing sound.