“Sure, officer!” he boomed heartily, to Sally’s amazement, “just ask the little lady anything you like. She sees all, knows all. Step right up, folks, and hear Princess Lalla, favorite crystal-gazer to the Sultan of Turkey before she escaped from his harem, tell your fellow-townsman, Constable Sam Pelton, the truth, the whole truth and something besides the truth—a few things that are going to happen to him that Officer Sam don’t yet dream of! Step right up, folks! Don’t be bashful! Step up and get an earful about your esteemed fellow-townsman and officer of the law—” Sally felt the ice melting slowly in her veins. Dear Gus! He was stalling, gaining time, subtly frightening the constable, whose face had gone redder and redder, whose eyes glanced with furtive unease from the crystal to the grinning faces of his “fellow-townsmen,” who apparently had no great love for Constable Sam Pelton. Then that which Gus had arranged by means of a code signal took place. Two “schillers,” hastily summoned by a carnival employe, suddenly broke into loud curses and sharp, slapping blows which echoed in the instantly quiet tent. “Pick my pocket, would you?” the raucous voice of a “schiller” demanded between slaps and punches. “I seen you—sneakin’ your hand in my pocket!” Constable Pelton, glad to be able to assert his authority, glad also, possibly, to escape a too intimate revelation of his past, bounded from the platform, collared the fighting “schillers,” and dragged them triumphantly away. When the last stragglers of the carnival crowd had been ushered rather unceremoniously from the tent, Sally rose from her chair and pattered swiftly to where Gus, the barker, stood talking with Pop Bybee, owner and manager of Bybee’s Bigger and Better Carnival. “Thank you, Gus! I was scared nearly to death! It was wonderful the way you stalled along till those two rubes—” she was already becoming familiar with carnival lingo—“got into a fight. Wasn’t it lucky for me they did?” she added naively. “Hell, kid!” Gus grinned at her and tilted his derby more rakishly over his left eye. “It was a frame-up. Them’s our boys. The guy that pretended to have his pocket picked will swear he made a mistake, and the worst old Sam can do is to have ’em fined for disorderly conduct. I’ll square it with ’em, and they’ll be in Capital City by show-time tomorrow.” Pop Bybee chuckled richly, his bright, pale-blue eyes gleaming in the lobster-red expanse of his old face. “Didn’t I tell you, child, that the law couldn’t touch you long as you stuck with the carnival? Dave tells me you’re babbling about running away again because we’re hitting the trail for your home town tonight. You stick, Sally. Pop Bybee and Gus and the rest of us will take care of you.”