Andy turned his face in the direction of Centreville.  He had no idea of going direct there, however, that day.

He did not know how many people from Fairview might have seen him there the day previous.  He did know that if Aunt Lavinia was determined to pursue him, the first thing she would think of was his circus predilections.

Andy planned cautiously and with wisdom.  From watching the circus posters he knew it’s route.  Centreville was in another county from Fairview.  But Clifton, the next point of exhibition, was in another state.

“That suits me,” he murmured.

Andy had an idea that once safely over the state line the law could not reach him so readily as on home territory.

He knew the neighboring towns pretty fairly, and he fixed on Clifton as his destination.  Clifton was about eight miles from Centreville.

Andy decided he would go there and put in the time until next morning.

At midnight the show would pull up stakes at Centreville.  He would be on hand to welcome its arrival at Clifton.

“Then I will see Miss Starr and Mr. Marco,” he thought.  “If the circus manager will only take me on, I’ll fall into great luck.”

Andy got to Clifton about noon.  He changed the five-dollar bill, buying a cheap but big dinner, for he was nearly famished.

He learned where the circus was to exhibit, and went to the spot.  Some workers were already there, digging trenches, distributing sawdust and the like.

Andy volunteered to help them.  It would be good practice in the way of experience, he told himself.  Until four o’clock in the afternoon he was quite busy about the place.

He had heard so much circus talk during his free labors that his mind was more full of the show than ever.

Andy had heard one of the workers describe to a new hand all the excitement, bustle and novelty attending a jump from one town to another.

He strolled about the place but grew restive.  Just before dusk he bought some crackers and cheese, filled his pockets with the eatables, and started down the road leading towards Centreville.

Andy met an advance guard of the circus about two miles out of Clifton.  Some wagons carried the cooking camp outfit.  A little farther on he was met by some menagerie wagons.

“They’ll come in sections,” ruminated Andy.

“The big tent people won’t make a start till after the evening performance.  I won’t risk going any farther.  There’s an open barn near the road.  I’ll take a little snooze, and wake up in time to join the procession of big loads.”

Andy secured his little cash reserve in a marble bag.  He ate some lunch and made for the open structure he had observed.

It was an old doorless barn near a hay press.  A great many bales were stack up at one side.  Climbing among these Andy found a cozy boxed in space, carried some loose hay to it, and composed himself for sleep.