In fact Luke did present signs of a betterment over his first forlorn appearance on the circus scene.

He wore a new jacket and a neat collar and necktie.  His face had no trouble in it now.  He presented the appearance of a person eminently satisfied with the present and full of hope and animation for the future.

“Prosperous?” he declaimed volubly—­“I guess I am.  Square meals, a sure berth for a week, jolly friends—­and, oh, say! you’re one of the true ones.”

“Am I?” smiled Andy—­“I’m glad to hear you say so.”

“Billy Blow is another.  He got me on at a side show.  They give me my keep, ten per cent, on what photographs I sell, and togged me out respectable looking, gratis.”

“Good for you,” commended Andy heartily.  “And what of the famous chicken?”

“In capital trim.  Say, that wise little rooster seems to know he’s on exhibition.  There’s some monkeys in our tent.  He steals their food, fights them, cuts up all kinds of antics.  Boss says he thinks he will be a drawing card.  I’ve got him to turn a somersault now.  Come on.”

“Come where?”

“I want to show you.  See there.  Isn’t that grand, now?”

Luke led Andy into the tent where the side show was.  A big frame covered with cheese cloth took up the entire width of the place.  Upon this a man with a brush was liberally spreading several quarts of glaring red and yellow paint.

“Greatest Curiosity In The World—­Remarkable Freak of Nature—­The Famous Bolivar Trick Rooster, Who Walks Backwards”—­so much of the grand announcement to the circus public had been already painted on the sign.

“They’re bound to give you a chance, anyhow,” observed Andy.  “And I must say I am mighty glad of it.”

“And see here,” continued Luke animatedly.  “Come on, old fellow.  Easy, now.  Ah, he wants a lump of sugar.”

Luke had approached a very strongly-built cage.

Its occupant was one of the largest and ugliest-looking monkeys Andy had ever seen.

It bristled and snarled at Andy, but as Luke opened the cage door leaped into his arms, snuggled there, and began petting his face with one paw.

Luke gave the animal a lump of sugar, coaxed it, stroked it.  Then he took it over to where an impromptu slack wire was strung between two posts, and set the monkey on this.

The animal went through some evolutions that were so perfect an imitation of first-class human trapeze performance, that Andy was fairly astonished.

“The people here give me great credit on that,” announced Luke with happy eyes, as he put the monkey back in his cage.  “They were just going to kill him when I came here”

“Kill him—­what for?” asked Andy.