Braddock made no effort to
keep up with them, but loafed behind, simulating interest in the most
conveniently propinquitous of his possessions, with now and then a
furtive glance at the couple a half-dozen paces ahead.
David was sorely puzzled and distressed. He knew that something was
going cruelly wrong with his friend and supporter, but what it was he
could not even venture a guess, knowing so little about the people and
conditions attached to his new world.
"So, he's 'ere again, is he?"
He whirled quickly to find Grinaldi peering over his shoulder, his
erstwhile merry face as black as a thunder cloud.
"Who is he?" demanded David.
The clown did not answer at once. His eyes were glittering. It was not
until the trio passed from view beyond a "snack-stand" that he sighed
mightily and jammed his hands into his coat pockets, still clenched.
Even then, he stared long at David before replying.
"That man?" he said harshly. "That's Colonel Bob Grand."
"What has he got to do with the show, Mr. Noakes?"
"Call me Joey. Everybody does, my lad." He looked around cautiously.
No one was near them.
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