THE COLLEGE AND THE CIRCUS
wore the quiet smile of anticipation. They would walk up the street a few steps, then stop, wait a minute, turn, and walk down again.
"Here they come! Here they come! Ah!" The calliope had started up, and now the procession turned the corner.
At the head of the cavalcade, in Western costume, rode Cherokee Charlie. He had long hair and a flowing moustache, and tried to sit his horse like Buffalo Bill. His small eyes glittered when he spied the students.
Reddy Armstrong called across the street to somebody else: "Say, Tommy, isn't he handsome?"
Cherokee Charlie made no remark, holding his eyes front and trying to look as he thought Buffalo Bill would look. He had given careful instructions to his men—in fact, there had been during the past week daily rehearsals which had nothing to do with the regular performance.
"There's old One-Barrel Bill," the students were now shouting. "Howdy, part-
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