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“Hello, Billy! You washin’ floors?” There was a sneer in Jimmy’s voice. “They’re a regular Damon and Pythias, aren’t they? And we’ll have Flash for the Polar Bear, in the circus, and Tom for the Royal Bengal Tiger, the baby tiger, you know.” “You bet it’s work! ’Specially when she gets hold of a cub like me.”.

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Jean’s face fell, and she didn’t look at Billy when she spoke. “My mother says I mustn’t wrestle any more.” Locked up! The child’s heart beat stiflingly; yet she did not cry out; she thought self-control would win her more favor than tears. As he climbed down, reaching from branch to branch, very cautiously, he knew not why, he was suddenly halted by the sound of low voices. Carefully he crept nearer. A tiny hut came in view, with an open door, and the glint of fire within. A man was standing outside, smoking a pipe, yet wearing hat, coat, and gloves, as if about to set off. He was very large. His clothes were new and showy, too bright in color, too large of check. His watch chain was massive; the big diamond out of place with his colored shirt; and the soft silk handkerchief he drew from his pocket was a brilliant red, and the largest Billy had ever seen. Another man, in the doorway, was smaller and bareheaded. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hands were stained. “Jiminy whiz! This is my very last week of boy; next week I’ll have to be a man,” he said gloomily..