an to talk, low, excitedly. The woman
came around from the other side of the car. She was young, slim, strong;
she was in a crimson shirtwaist and on her cheeks were spots of red.
She, too, glanced at boy and dog, then joined the talk of the men. "No!
No!" she cried. They brushed her aside; she ran quickly back to them;
they brushed her aside again. Finally one of them pushed her into the
car, pulled the shabby curtains down, and got in himself. The other man
came forward, a smirking smile on his heavy red face.

Close to the boy stood Frank, his challenging eyes fastened on that
smirking face. But Tommy, looking up with that eagerness to trust common
to all young things from children to puppies, answered the man's
questions in his clear boy's voice. Many times before, at Tom Belcher's
store, at the Hunt Club, at country fairs, strangers had stopped thus
to talk to him, had asked him who he was, where he lived, if his dog
would bite. Many times before such strangers had smiled down into his
upturned face.

"We got lots of things in the car," the man was saying, "apples,
peaches, circus things. We been to a circus. Did you see the lady?"

"I did!" said Tommy, breathless, his eyes big.

"Well, you come along with me. The lady wants to show you them circus
things."

Just a moment Tommy hesitated. He looked up wistfully into the smiling
face and into the narrowed eyes that somehow frightened him. Then he
glanced toward the car and smiled in ecstasy. That rolled-up tent
strapped on behind was striped red-and-white like tents at the fair:
merry-go-round tents, tents with shawled women who held your hand and
told you what was going to happen. The woods became suddenly alive with
romance, luring him to see. He hesitated no longer. He went with the
man, one hand on his hat brim as if the wind were blowing. Close behind,
panting, followed old Frank.

The car flecked with spots of light looked big here in the woods like a
strayed elephant. The other man, on the front seat, his hand on the
wheel, glanced over his shoulder as they approached. In his wide-brimmed
hat he looked like the man who stands in front of tents and shouts for
people to come in and see. Half concealed by the curtains and by
bundles, the woman, her face strangely white except for red spots, sat
on the back seat. Valises and suitcases with gaudy things sticking out
of them were strapped here and there to the car. Tommy stopped and
stared in wonderment at t