At a glance he saw that the stranger did not belong to the show.  He was poorly dressed, but clean-faced and bright-eyed, although he limped like a person who had walked too far and too long for comfort.

“My fault,” said the stranger.  “I’ve done nothing but gape since I came here.  Say, this circus is a regular city in itself, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” answered Andy.  “Stranger here?”

The boy nodded.  He studied Andy’s face quite anxiously.

“Look here,” he said, “you look honest.  Some lemonade boys I asked sent me astray with all kinds of wrong information.  You won’t, will you?”

“Certainly not,” said Andy.  “What’s the trouble?”

“Is it hard to get a talk with the circus manager?”

“Why, no.”

“Is it hard to join the show?”

“I have just joined,” said Andy.

“Is that so?” exclaimed the stranger, brightening up.  “Was it hard to get in?”

“Not particularly.  What did you expect to do?”

“Anything for a start,” responded the other eagerly.  “Only, my ambition is to be an animal trainer.”

Andy became quite interested.

“Why that?” he inquired.

“Because it seems to be my bent.  My name is Luke Belding.  I’m an orphan.  Been brought up on a stock farm, and know all about horses.  And say,” added the speaker with intense eagerness, “if they’ll take me on I’ll throw in a great curiosity.”

He held out what looked like a wooden cage covered with a piece of water-proof cloth.

“Got it in there, have you?” asked Andy.

“Yes.  I’ve trained it, and it’s cute.  Honest, it’s better as a curiosity, and to make people laugh, than a lot of the novelties they have in the side, tents.”

“Why,” said Andy, with increasing interest, “what may it be, now?”

“Well,” answered Luke, “it’s a chicken.”

“Oh.  Two-headed, three-legged, I suppose, or something of that sort?”

“Not at all.  No,” said Luke Belding, “this is something you never saw before.  It’s a chicken that walks backward.”

CHAPTER XIX

CALLED TO ACCOUNT

Andy burst out laughing,—­he could not help it.

“That’s strange,” he said.  “A chicken that walks backward?”

“Yes,” answered Luke Belding, soberly.

“Really does it?”

“Oh, sure.  All the time.  I’ve got it here.  I’ll show you.”

Luke made a move as if to remove the cloth cover from the box under his arm, but Andy stopped him.

“Hold on,” he said.  “Come with me till I get rid of this cake, and then you shall show me.”

“H’m!” observed Luke, smacking his lips with a longing look at the cake, “it wouldn’t take me long to get rid of it!”

“Hungry?” insinuated Andy.

“Desperately.  I’d be almost tempted to sell a half-interest in the chicken for a good square meal.”