"But I'll let
you ask him yourself. He usually goes in back there," and he nodded
toward his wagon, "to wash the black off after the show each night. No
doubt he is in there now scrubbing himself, for I must say he is a very
clean person, is John Lane."
"John Lane! Is that what he calls himself?" asked Mr. Brown.
"He has since he has been with me, which, however, is only the last few
days. I called him professor just for fun, as it sounds better with the
public. But I'll let you ask him yourself. He must be through washing by
now. It may be he is a runaway boy. It wouldn't be the first time I've
had 'em join me. Sometimes they get sorry and run back home again, and
sometimes they drift away and I don't see 'em again. But we'll soon find
out if this is the boy you want."
He opened a door leading off the back platform. It seemed to give
admittance to the middle of the medicine van.
"Here you, John! John Lane!" called Dr. Perry. "There are some folks out
here who want to see you. They want to see how you look when you have
the black off. You ought to be washed now, for it's almost time to go to
the hotel for the night. Come on out."
There was no answer to the medicine man's call.
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