BEFORE Veve could turn to look where Connie pointed, the man had turned his back to the two girls. Walking rapidly, he mingled with the crowd of passengers leaving the railroad station.

“Oh, that fellow is wearing a black suit,” said Veve carelessly. “Don’t you remember? Pickpocket Joe had on a brown one.”

“Just the same, it looked like him,” insisted Connie.

“Did he have a mole on his cheek?”

“I couldn’t see that far. But I am almost certain it was Pickpocket Joe, Veve.”

“Then let’s tell Mr. Gregg.”

The girls hastened over to where the detective stood. He was watching the train to make sure that the other pickpocket did not alight from the coach again. “Oh, Mr. Gregg!” Connie cried excitedly. “He’s here!”

“Who is here?” inquired the detective.

“Pickpocket Joe! Veve and I saw him only a minute ago.”

The detective whirled quickly around. “Where?” he demanded. “Do you see him now?”

“No, he melted into the crowd.”

“Then I’ll not have much chance of catching him,” said the detective regretfully. “I wonder if the man you saw really was Pickpocket Joe.”

“It looked exactly like him except for the color of his suit,” insisted Connie.

“The man might have left the coach from the other side of the train,” Mr. Gregg said thoughtfully. “But I’m inclined to think you were mistaken.”

Connie said no more about the matter. However, she did not believe she was wrong in her identification. She determined to watch the crowd for the man. Perhaps she would see him later on the circus grounds.

After the train had pulled out, Mr. Gregg escorted the girls into the station. He asked the agent if there were any telegrams for him.

“Three,” replied the man. He gave the detective the yellow envelopes. Pressing closer, Connie and Veve waited anxiously as the detective ripped open the first message.

“Does it say anything about us?” inquired Veve.

“This one concerns routine business,” replied Mr. Gregg. “We’ll look at another.”

He slit the second envelope.

“Is it from Miss Gordon?” questioned Connie hopefully.

The detective shook his head.

Connie and Veve waited uneasily as he finally slit the third envelope. They were worried lest it fail to contain a message from the Brownie Scout leader or their parents.

Eva had told them the circus would leave late that night for another city fifty miles away. They did not wish to travel any farther from Shady Hollow Camp.

“Yes, this telegram does concern you,” Mr. Gregg announced.

Connie drew a deep breath. “What does it say?” she asked.

“The message is signed by Miss Gordon. She says she is driving through with Mrs. Williams and should arrive sometime this afternoon.”

“Mrs. Williams!” laughed Connie. “Why, that’s my mother!” “I wonder if the Brownies are coming?” speculated Veve. “It would be nice if they all get to see the circus tonight.”

“What else does the telegram say?” asked Connie.

“It merely instructs us to keep you until they arrive,” said the detective, handing her the telegram.

“At least Miss Gordon didn’t say a word about being angry with us,” said Veve as she reread the message over Connie’s shoulder. “But then, it probably would have cost more money to have wired that!”

After attending to a few errands at the railroad station, Mr. Gregg took the girls back to the circus lot.

“What shall we do now?” Veve asked rather listlessly.

Both girls were rather tired of looking at the wild animals. And nearly all of the circus performers seemed to be too busy to talk with them.

For a while they watched the men anchoring the big tent so that it would be secure should a hard wind blow up. By this time the girls knew that the mammoth canvas was familiarly known to the circus folk as “the old rag.” In fact, they had noticed that circus people seemed to have a different name for almost everything. The stand where pop was sold was spoken of as “the juice joint,” and the hamburger sandwich stand, “the grease joint.”

Veve thought it especially funny the first time she heard the balloon seller called “the bag guy.” After that she became used to it and spoke of him the same way herself.

“I know what let’s do,” she proposed to Connie as an idea suddenly struck her. “Let’s look at the steam calliope.”

“The horse piano!” laughed Connie, who had heard Eva use that name. “Yes, that should be fun!”

The girls found the calliope in a large wagon decorated with gold and white carvings. Pat Dawson, the operator, was working on the instrument when they climbed up beside him.

“Why, the keyboard looks almost like our piano at home!” Connie exclaimed in astonishment.

“Want to play a tune?” the operator invited.

“Oh, I can’t play a circus calliope,” Connie said, shrinking back at the thought.

“Can you play the piano?”

“I know ‘The Buttercup,’” Connie admitted, after thinking a moment. “And I can play part of ‘The Merry Sleigh Ride.’”

“Then sit right down here,” the man urged, making room for her at the keyboard. “The steam is on. Go to it!”

Connie was almost afraid to touch the keys. But plucking up her courage, she began to play the first measure of “The Merry Sleigh Ride.”

The keys played almost like those of her piano at home. However, as she touched them, a terrific blast of sound shook the wagon.

With a startled exclamation, Connie jerked her fingers away from the keyboard.

“You’d get used to it if you played a calliope all day,” the operator laughed. “But it helps to keep cotton in your ears.”

To show the girls how easily the instrument operated, the man began to play “There Will be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight.”

Veve and Connie hastily scrambled down from the wagon.

“Why, I’m surprised you don’t like my music,” the man laughed.

“Oh, we like it very much,” Connie said politely after he had stopped playing so she could make herself heard. “It’s just a little bit loud.” “Well, it should be,” Pat chuckled. “This horse piano is a special-built job and can be heard for nearly six miles on a quiet day.”

After leaving the calliope wagon, Veve and Connie chatted for a while with the Fat Lady and Madam Womba, the sword swallower.

“Is it hard to learn to swallow a sword?” Veve asked the woman.

“It takes years of practice,” she replied. “I shouldn’t advise either of you ever to try it.”

The girls watched the midgets for a time, and then they could think of nothing else to do.

“Let’s see if we can find Eva,” proposed Connie. “She must be around here somewhere.”

The little circus girl was not in her dressing tent or anywhere to be seen on the lot.

“You’ll find Eva in the big top working on her riding act,” a workman finally told them.

By this time Connie and Veve knew that they must never disturb their little friend when she was practicing for the circus.

Accordingly, they entered the main tent quietly and sat down in the front row of bleacher seats.

Eva was so busy she did not see them at first. She was riding a large white horse around and around the sawdust ring. Close by stood the little girl’s parents, who were watching her work quite critically.

“Now the somersault, Eva!” called her father.

“Oh, please, not today,” the little girl pleaded. “I don’t feel well. I will do it tonight at the regular performance, if only you won’t make me practice it now.”

“The somersault, Eva!” ordered her father again. He knew that his daughter only said she did not feel well as an excuse to avoid the turn. “You must practice it over and over until you have no fear.”

Connie and Veve couldn’t keep from feeling sorry for the little circus girl. They didn’t blame her a bit for being afraid to try the somersault.

Eva rode her horse at a prancing trot around the sawdust ring. Behind her came another white horse without a rider. However, its gait was even and the animal knew exactly what to do without being guided.

At a signal from her father. Eva stood up on her mount. Then at exactly the right moment, she turned a quick somersault in the air, landing on the broad back of the second horse.

“Well done, Eva!” praised her father.

Then to the surprise of Connie and Veve, he made the little girl do the somersault several times more. Once Eva slipped and would have fallen had not her father caught and held her.

“Now you may rest for a few minutes,” he told his daughter at last.

Eva went over and sat down beside Connie and Veve.

“Must you always work so hard?” asked Connie.

“Every day except Sunday,” sighed Eva. “I wouldn’t mind, if only I could learn to do that somersault the right way.”

“One must keep trying,” said Connie soberly. “That’s how it is when you’re a Brownie Scout. Miss Gordon says if a job is hard, one always should do his best.”

“Scouts always are courageous too,” added Veve. “And they believe in being courteous, kind, helpful and fair.”

“I’d give anything to be a Brownie Scout,” sighed Eva. “But I never can.”

While the little circus girl rested, her mother and father led another horse into the ring. They were trying to train it for their act. For a long while they merely kept the horse trotting around the circle at an even pace. “A rosinback must be trained so he’ll never miss a single step,” explained Eva to her friends.

“Why do you call your horse a rosinback?” asked Veve, who was learning a great deal about circus animals.

“Oh, that’s because we rub powdered rosin on their backs,” answered Eva. “We do it so a performer won’t slip and fall. A horse’s hide is real slick.”

After a while Mr. and Mrs. Leitsall announced that the horse was ready for his next lesson.

“How would you girls like to help train him?” Eva’s father asked.

“Oh, fine!” cried Connie eagerly. “Only we don’t know how.”

“Your part will be easy,” encouraged Mr. Leitsall. “All you need to do is to shout and scream when I raise my hand.”

“But how will that help to train the horse?” inquired Connie, deeply puzzled.

“A ring horse must learn to pay no heed to noise,” explained the circus man. “Even if a storm blows the tent down he must not lose a single step.”

Eva found several old tin cans. She offered Veve two of them. “What are these for?” Veve asked.

“Bang them together and they’ll make a lot of noise,” laughed Eva. “We’ll see if we can frighten the horse.”

Connie and Veve never had heard of training a horse in such a strange way. However, they were very willing to help.

While the three girls sat by the ringside, Eva’s father made the horse canter around the ring. Suddenly he raised his hand.

“Now!” shouted Eva. “Make all the noise you can!”

Connie screamed at the top of her lungs. Veve rattled her tin cans, yelling as hard as she could. Eva’s father cracked his long whip and shot off a revolver which had been loaded with blanks.

The horse had been so well trained it did not appear to notice. Undisturbed, the animal kept cantering around and around the ring at the same steady space.

Mr. Leitsall raised his hand in signal again. The girls became quiet once more.

“Well done, old boy,” the trainer said to the horse. “Here is your reward.” He took two lumps of sugar from his pocket. After Eva had tried her somersault again, her father told her she need not practice any more. The little girl started gaily away with Connie and Veve.

Before she could leave the tent, however, her mother called:

“Oh, Eva, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh, bother!” exclaimed the circus girl. “Must I do my stupid old lessons now? Let me off, just this once.”

“Every child has to go to school,” replied her mother firmly. “Yesterday you missed three words in your speller.”

“Oh, all right,” grumbled Eva.

She told Connie and Veve she would see them at lunch time. Then she went with her mother to do her lessons.

“I don’t think I should like to travel with the circus after all,” announced Veve. “It’s much more fun just to come and visit.”

“Everyone has to work so hard here,” agreed Connie. “I think living in Rosedale and going to camp with the Brownies is much better.”

At a loss for a way to spend their time, the two girls wandered about the circus lot. They watched the trained seals and talked to several of the clowns. Then before long it was luncheon time.

Eva sat beside the girls in the cook tent, but she did not eat very much.

“Don’t you feel well?” Connie asked.

“I’m all right,” muttered the little girl.

“Maybe you are tired from practicing so hard,” said Veve.

“I’m not tired at all,” denied Eva, a trifle irritably. “I wish you wouldn’t keep talking about it.”

Connie knew then that the little girl was worried about her act. Already she was thinking about the somersault she would be required to do in the afternoon and evening shows. When luncheon was over, Eva walked away to talk to her father.

“Please don’t make me do the turn today,” she pleaded. “If you will let me off this once, I will try it tomorrow without fail.”

“I have excused you too many times as it is,” replied her father. “Unless you do the somersault every day you never will overcome your fear. You never will become a great rider.”

“I don’t care,” said Eva crossly, although she really cared a great deal. “I wish I could leave this old circus! Then I could do exactly as I please.” Connie and Veve were astonished to hear the little girl’s remark. And Veve recalled she once had said almost the same thing. She had wished to join the circus so that she could enjoy an easy life.

“No one ever is allowed to do exactly as he pleases, Eva,” her father told her. “But if you’re serious about leaving the circus, it might be arranged. I might send you back to that city called Rosedale with Connie and Veve. You’d like that?”

“I don’t know,” Eva replied, hanging her head.

Mr. Leitsall turned to Connie and Veve. “Do you girls always get to do exactly as you please?” he asked them.

“Oh, no,” answered Connie. “At home I usually have to go to bed at eight o’clock.”

“I’d hate that,” announced Eva quickly. “Here I always stay up until the circus is over. I never go to bed before midnight.”

“We have lessons to study too,” added Veve. “And jobs to do at home.”

“Well, you might think it over, Eva,” remarked her father. “When Miss Gordon and Mrs. Williams arrive here, I’ll talk to them about taking you to Rosedale. No doubt they could find a nice place for you to board and room.” “We should like to have you, Eva,” declared Connie politely.

“You could join our Brownie troop,” added Veve. “Of course we have rules you would have to obey.”

“I’d like to be a Brownie,” said Eva slowly. “That would be the best part.”

“Then you’ll return home with us?” Connie asked.

But Eva was not ready to give her answer.

“I don’t know,” she said soberly. “I will think about it hard today and let you know later. After all, perhaps I would rather stay in the circus.”