"And what I am wanted for?"
"Certain. Wot's that got to do with it?"
"Do they think I'm--I'm guilty?"
"Well, I reckon most of 'em do," said the contortionist blandly.
"But," he added in some haste, "they don't give a dang for a little
thing like that."
"But," said David fiercely, "I don't want them to think I am guilty. I
can't bear to think that every one is looking upon me as a criminal.
Why--why, what must the ladies of the--of the show think of me? I--I--
"
Joey Grinaldi put his hand on the young fellow's shoulder: "They don't
think you done it, Jack--not one of 'em. I heard 'em speaking of you
last night as if you was a reg'lar angel. For the fust time since I've
knowed all of them women, they are all agreed on one thing: they
_all_ agree that you are the sweetest kid they've ever seen and
that you never done anything naughty in your life. Come on, now. Mrs.
Braddock wants to see you a minute."
David's heart leaped. He followed the old clown into the open tent,
his eyes bright with the eagerness to look once more upon the strange,
lovely friend of the night before,--his true guardian angel.
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