nine o'clock
True , he had no money for a ticket , but it was a delight to wander about the grounds ; to climb upon the great carts and be chased off by angry circus men . The gaudy canvases , stretched here and there , reminded him of what he had seen inside ; and he eyed them affectionately . Once there was a thrill of excitement for him , when the Indian warriors , their evening act over , hurried past him in a group and disappeared within the opening of a small tent , on the outskirts of the grounds . Time passed , and it had struck nine o'clock a half hour ago . The show would be over in half an hour more . Young Joe Warren , who had seen the main circus in the afternoon and who was strolling in and about the side-shows , suddenly found himself accosted by Tim Reardon , who gasped out a greeting as though the words choked him . `` Hello , Tim , '' replied Joe , eying him with astonishment .