“You shall have one without any such sacrifice,” declared Andy.  “Come along.”

They found the clown’s tent empty.

“Billy Blow is probably giving Midget an airing,” said Andy, half to himself.

“Who’s Billy Blow?” inquired Luke.

“The clown.”

“Do you know a real live clown?  Say, that’s great!” said Luke.  “Must keep a fellow laughing all the time.”

“I thought so until yesterday,” answered Andy.  “But no—­they have their troubles, like other people.  This poor, sorrowful fellow has his fill of it.  He don’t do much laughing outside of the ring, I can tell you.  There, we’ll enjoy the cook’s gift together.”

Andy drew up the bench and handed Luke fully three-quarters of the toothsome dainty.  It pleased him to see the half-famished boy enjoy the feast.  Luke poked a good-sized piece of the sake under the cage cover.  There was a gladsome cluck.

“Two of us happy,” announced Luke, with a smile that won Andy’s heart.

Andy decided that his new acquaintance was the right sort.  Luke had a clear, honest face, and there was something in his eye that inspired confidence.

“Now, then,” said Andy, as his companion munched the last crumb of the cake, “let’s see your wonderful curiosity.”

“I’ll do it,” replied Luke with alacrity.  “Find me a little stick or switch, will you?”

Andy went outside to hunt for the required article.  As he returned with a stake splinter he observed that Luke had uncovered and set down the cage, which was a rude wooden affair.

Near it, with a pertly cocked head and magnificently red feathers, stood a small rooster.  Luke took the stick from Andy’s hand.

“Walk, Bolivar!” he ordered.

Andy began to laugh.  It was a comical sight.  The rooster went strutting around the tent backwards as rapidly and steadily as a normal chicken.  It was ludicrous to watch it proceed, pecking at the ground and turning corners.

“Now, then, Bolivar!” said Luke.

He used the stick to direct the rooster, which kept time first with one foot and then the other to a tune whistled by its owner, ending with a triple pirouette that was superb.

“Well, that’s fine!” commented Andy with enthusiasm.  “How did you ever train it?”

“Didn’t,” responded Luke frankly—­“except for the dancing.  I’ve done that with crows and goats, many a time.  See here,” and he picked up the chicken and extended its feet.

“Why,” cried Andy, “it was born with its claws turned backwards!”

“That’s it,” nodded Luke.  “See?  A regular freak of nature.  Odd enough to put among the curiosities?”

“It certainly is,” voted Andy.  “The circus wouldn’t use it, though—­just a side show.”

“I don’t care,” said Luke, “as long as I get started in with the show.  Can you help me?”

“I’ll try to,” declared Andy.  “Wait here.  I want to find Billy Blow and tell him about this.”