These and many other remarks of a distinctly professional nature came from Ringmaster Cane, who seemed to be everywhere at once. Now he was at the entrance keeping it free from loiterers; now his nasal drawl could be heard issuing orders behind the scenes; now he was assisting a couple of ladies to find seats in the "ampatheater"; and at last, with three shrill blasts on a police whistle, he stood before the curtain and cracked his whip for order. CHAPTER XIX SUBE THE SHOWMAN A battered silk hat that had seen his father through a campaign for district attorney a number of years before rested on his ears, causing them to protrude unnaturally, while a full-dress coat with pointed tails that just cleared the floor gave him a quadrupedal appearance. This coat was the wearer's conception of sartorial perfection, having been cut out by his own hands from an old raincoat of his father's. A pair of painter's overalls with a hectic past completed his costume. And while the audience gazed with interest at the ringmaster, the ringmaster was gazing with equal interest at the audience. He was trying to make himself think that the circus was solely responsible for the gala dress that confronted him, although his better judgment should have told him that most of those present were thus gayly clad for Cottontop Sigsbee's party that was to take place at the conclusion of the performance. After cracking the whip a few times to show how skillfully it could be done, the ringmaster proceeded to deliver a highly entertaining lecture prepared by himself in collaboration with one Job, and to assure his hearers that his show possessed the only "genuine blood-sweatin' behemoth of Holy Writ now in captivity, regardluss of the claims of jealous compet'ors exackly as advertised." As he gave a preliminary shake of the drop-curtain the anticipations of the audience ran high, for they distinctly smelled something suggestive of the odor of wild animals; but alas, it was only a faint reminiscence from the curtain. After one or two false starts the ringmaster drew back the curtain. "Behold now behemoth, ladies and gent'mun!" he cried with a sweeping gesture of the hand toward the center of the stage. With a craning of necks and a straining of eyes the audience beheld a quadruped about the size of Sport and the color of stove-blacking, manacled by a huge log-chain to a Nubian animal trainer who bore a striking resemblance to Gizzard Tobin, although bereft of all clothing save a pair of swimming trunks and a sparse coating of black. The murmur of disapproval that greeted this tableau was quickly quelled by the ringmaster, as he brought the curtains together and began to declaim in a loud voice: