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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I don't 'chaw," said the latter. "Teeth gone?" sneered the other. "No, that's why I don't care to lose them," retorted Andy. "Huh! Say, Snitzellbaum, loan me a little tobacco, will you?" The speaker had nudged the musician. The latter eyed him with little favor. "You vas a kid," he observed, stirring up. "Vhen you grow up, maybe. Not now."
"Oh, yes, yes," answered the clown in a preoccupied way, with a quick look at Andy. "I'll take him under my wing until Marco comes along. This way, kid. I've some baggage to look after. Then we'll bunk." Andy bade Hans Snitzellbaum adieu with reluctance. He liked the bluff-hearted old German with his fatherly ways. "Goot py for dot bresent times," said the fat musician.
She vas in dot hospitals. Den his little poy, Midget, is sick. Poor Billy!" Andy suddenly remembered something. He craned his neck and looked steadfastly along the road. "I want to leave the wagon when we get a little further along," he said. "I likes not dot," answered Snitzellbaum. "Maybe you gets in droubles, so?" "No, it's when we reach an old barn," explained Andy.
Going back to the clown's tent he washed up, and made himself generally tidy and presentable for the coming interview at the Empire Hotel. Andy had a full hour to spare before the time set for that event arrived. He took a stroll about the circus grounds, meeting jolly old Hans Snitzellbaum, and Benares and his partner, Thacher.
Mister, I hereby notify you that these two men are my regularly appointed deputies." "All right," nodded Marco calmly. "Watch out, boys. I won't be gone half-an-hour." At that moment a waddling man came up smoking an immense pipe. "Ha," he said to Mr. Marco, "I vant mine drums." "Wait a minute, Snitzellbaum," directed Marco.
When the Man with the Iron Jaw had whispered to the fat musician outside the dressing tent guarded by Wagner's assistants, he had asked him to get Andy out of the clutches of the constable. The fat sides of Hans Snitzellbaum shook with jollity, and his merry eye twinkled at the hint conveyed by Andy's staunch friend.
"Hey, you, Jim Tapp," observed Snitzellbaum, "you vas a pal of Daley, hey? You see him? Vell, you tell him ve hang him up by dose heels, und Murdock mit him, vonce ve catch dem. See you?" Tapp disappeared over the edge of the wagon into the road. "Mein friend," remarked the musician to Andy, "you vatch oud for dot poy." Andy Wildwood recalled the solemn warning before the next day was over.
"Told you I'd get that boy," announced Wagner, with a chuckle lifting the flap of the tent. "Say! How's this? Andy Wildwood is gone!" "Come oud!" said Hans Snitzellbaum. "I'm glad to," answered Andy Wildwood. He took a long, refreshing draught of pure air, and stood up and stretched his cramped limbs with satisfaction.
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