“Down that ringmaster!  Give him his own lash!” came from a burly farmer.  “We’ll teach him to abuse a boy as is sick!”

This cry was taken up by several.  Growing alarmed, the ringmaster took to his heals and disappeared in the direction of the dressing-tent, whence his young victim had already gone.  Then the band struck up, and the manager of the show sent out the clowns to do an extra stunt to quiet the audience.

“I’m afraid that ringmaster will have it in for that boy,” said Snap to his chums.

“Poor boy!” murmured the doctor’s son.  “He didn’t look as if he was used to this hard life.  I wish we could do something for him.”

“Let us try to look into the dressing-room and see what is going on,” suggested Snap.

The four boys watched their chance, and walking around the main tent, crawled under some slanting seats and then got close to the canvas that divided the main tent from that used by the performers in “making up.”

“Grandy, you must know what became of the little rascal,” they heard the ringmaster say.  “He came in here.”

“So he did, sir,” was the answer of a canvasman.  “But he didn’t stay.  He just caught up some clothing and dusted.”

“What!  Ran away?”

“He dusted.  I don’t know where he went.”

“Humph!  He wouldn’t dare to run away.  If he tries that game I’ll take his hide off when.  I catch him.”

“He couldn’t run very far, Mr. Jones—–­he was too weak.”

“Bah!  He isn’t sick.  He wants to shirk his act, that’s all.  Just wait till I get hold of him—–­I’ll teach him to get me into hot water with the audience!” fumed the ringmaster.

“Well; I don’t know where he went,” answered the canvasman, and resumed his work on the wall of the menagerie tent.  Then the ringmaster walked to another part of the dressing-tent to put on his street clothing, for he did not dare appear in the ring again at that performance.

“I hope that boy did run away,” said Snap as he and his friends turned back to look at the rest of the performance.  “I don’t see why such a nice looking lad should travel with such a crowd as this.”

“Oh, I suppose some of the circus folks are good people,” answered Whopper.  “But not that ringmaster.”

“He ought to be tarred and feathered, and I’d like to help do it,” came from Giant.

“Wonder who the boy is?” asked Shep.

“He is down on the bills as Master Buzz, the Human Fly.  Of course, Buzz isn’t his real name.”

“No.  It is more likely to be Smith or Jones,” answered Whopper.  “I’d like to see him and have a talk with him.”

“Perhaps we’ll get a chance to-morrow.  The circus is to stay two days, you know,” said Snap.

“Maybe the boy is all alone,” said Shep.  “If he is it might be that he would like it first rate if we would help him.”

The boys had lost interest in the show, and were not sorry when it came to an end.  They were among the first out, and hurried directly toward Mrs. Carson’s house.  In doing this they had to cross the railroad track, and here a passing freight train held them up.  The freight came to a halt, and backed to take on some empties.  Then it proceeded slowly on its way.