BILLY BUNTER'S Big Top Page 1 of 97 - Friardale

BILLY BUNTER’S Big Top
‘Put that attaché-case in my van.’
‘Suttingly, sir.’
Slaney took the attaché-case from Bunter and carried it into the blue and red
van, as Bunter expected. Bunter was tired of the weight of that attaché-case.
The circus performance could not last more than another hour or so, and
Bunter considered it unlikely that the real Mr. Whiffles would, in that short
space of time, obtain a suit of clothes from anywhere, to enable him to return.
Bunter had plenty of time to see the rest of the show and leave before there
was any likelihood of the circus proprietor showing up.
Bunter rolled round to the entrance of the tent.
It did not occur to him, for the moment, that the circus boss would be more
likely to enter from the back, where the performers went in.
But, as a matter of fact, Mr. Whiffles sometimes went ‘in front’ in order to sit
with the audience and see how they were ‘taking’ it. So there was nothing
unusual in his present proceedings.
The man in the ticket-box saluted Bunter respectfully. Bunter gave him a
patronising nod.
‘Er—how’s business going?’ he asked. He was feeling quite equal to playing
his part now and making a venture.
‘Nearly full, sir,’ said the man. ‘Lot of schoolboys ‘ere from the big school near
Friardale, sir.’
There was a burst of hand-clapping from within the tent.
‘Thompson’s getting the ‘ands, sir,’ said the ticket man.
But Bunter did not know what ‘getting the hands’ meant; neither was he aware
that Signor Tomasso Tomsonio was, in private life, Tommy Thompson.
“Oh! Ah! Yes!’ Bunter assented.
He rolled in.
An attendant touched his hat to him. Bunter remembered that Mr. Whiffles
had mentioned a Royal box in speaking to Dr. Locke.
‘Here, my man,’ he said.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Anybody in the Royal box?’
‘No, sir; vacant to-day.’
‘Take me there,’ commanded Bunter.
The attendant blinked at him. Perhaps he expected Mr. Whiffles to know his
way to his own Royal box.
Bunter realised that he had made another slip. A fellow couldn’t think of
everything at once. At all events, Bunter couldn’t. Again he resorted to the
high hand and again he got away with it.
‘Don’t stand gaping there!’ he snapped. ‘Do as you’re told!’
‘Oh! Yes, sir!’ gasped the attendant.
He led the way to the Royal box. That box, when Bunter reached it, did not
appear wholly worthy of its grandiloquent title. Still, it was the best box in the
tent, though its walls were only of canvas. There was a comfortable chair, and
that was what Bunter wanted after his many exertions that warm afternoon,
He sank into the chair with a gasp of relief.
‘I suppose you can get refreshments in here?’ he said.
‘Eh?’
The attendant quite jumped. Undoubtedly he expected Mr. Whiffles to know
whether he could get refreshments in his own circus.
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