of the orchard. He caught his breath. The Circus! Then he dashed to the gate.
It was still some distance away. He climbed the gatepost, hugging himself with joy. To think it was actually going to pass his very door! This made up for weeks of dullness. The lions would be hidden in their cages, he knew, but they couldn't hide the horses and ponies. Then a vast bulk showed for an instant in a gap in the trees, and he gave a shout of ecstasy. An elephant!
Never had any small boy waited with such trembling eagerness for Peterson's Circus. A man on a big black horse came into view first, riding in front of a red caravan : a man who looked as though he might tumble out of the saddle at any moment, so sleepy was he. As for the driver of the caravan, he had ceased to make any effort to remain awake; his head had fallen sideways, his mouth was open. He still held the reins, and the pair of dapple-grays that drew the caravan plodded along in the rear of the black horse, half asleep themselves, but always roadwise. They came on slowly. And then Adventure suddenly flashed into Hugh Russell's life, for the man in the lead caught sight of him, became wide awake, and cantered forward.
"H'lo, son! You're up early—wish I wasn't. Any chance of a camp here?"
"Here!" Hugh gasped. "Not—not all of you?"
"It's all or none, son. Got a field to spare?"
There's a field the other side of the orchard."
"Anything in it?"