Lester squeezed into the space that Miss Oakby had cleared; he had to nudge the crate slightly more, because he was significantly taller than she was. But he made it, and followed her lead, moving to the side and ducking slightly. "I always thought I'd make a good clown," he joked, as they hid. In the cracks between some of the crates, Lester could see that some of the people walking by had riding crops in their hands, the kind one would use for animals.

"I think they came from where the animals are," Lester guessed, once they'd passed out of the tent. "Let's go."

He was, in a classic move for many of his adventures, becoming significantly less nervous the further they got into it.