The clown met him at the entrance to the main tent. It was apparent
that he had been waiting there for his _protege_.
"Joey!" cried David, all the bitterness in his soul leaping to his
lips, "do you know what has happened?"
Joey's quaint old visage was never so solemn. His pipe was out; it
hung rather limply in his mouth.
"Mrs. Braddock 'as told me," he said. "They 'ad to do it. They owed
'im nearly seventeen thousand dollars."
"What is to become of her--and Christine?" cried the boy, his face
working.
"The good God may take care of 'em," returned the clown slowly. He
puffed hard at his cold pipe. "I'm not surprised at wot's 'appened,
Jacky. It's part of 'is game. Some day afore long he'll kick Braddock
out of the business altogether. That's the next step. She can't do
anything, either. All she's got in the world is in this 'ere show. If
--if she'd only go back home to her father! But, dang it, she swears
she won't do that. She'll work in the streets first."
"She can have all I've got," announced David eagerly.
"She ain't the kind to give up this 'ere property without a fight,
Jacky.
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