"I'll give you the guarantee now," he said. "Can you come to-morrow?" and he began to use his fountain pen. "Whom shall I make it out to?" and he looked at the manager.
"Say," suddenly whispered the manager to the ticket seller. "Is the marshall out there? He is? All right. Call him here." Then in soothing tones he spoke to Dick. "That's all right," he said. "Never mind the check. We'll come to Hamilton Corners, anyhow. Now don't get excited. Here, take a drink of water and you'll feel better. The sun is very hot to-day. In fact, it makes my head buzz. Just put that red book away. Red is very heating, you know."
He paused, and looked rather helplessly about him. Then in a whisper he again asked the ticket seller:
"Is the marshall there? Tell him to come in before he gets violent."
The side door opened, and a town marshall, with a big nickel-plated star on his coat, entered the wagon.
"What's the matter?" asked Dick, somewhat surprised at the sudden turn of events.
"There! there!" spoke the manager, soothingly. "It's all right. Don't get excited. You're with friends."
"Don't you want this check?" asked Dick. "I'm in earnest. I want your circus to come to Hamilton Corners."
"Yes, yes, of course, my dear boy. We'll come.
