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 wonderful tricks, and the Emperor was a great favorite with the children. For the past week El Capitan had been constantly picking on the Emperor, and that huge beast's patience had been sorely tried. So it happened as they plodded along that evening that some of the camels in the procession ahead had paused to let several teams from an intersecting street pass. This slowed up the elephants, and El Capitan trod upon the Emperor's heels, and then prodded him savagely with his tusks because he did not move on. This was the last straw that broke, not the camel's, but the elephant's back. The Emperor wheeled with a movement surprisingly quick for so large an animal, and brought down his mighty trunk square upon the top of El Capitan's head. It was a blow that would have crushed the skull of almost any other animal. It would have broken the back of a horse and stretched him dead on the ground, but it only stunned El Capitan for a second.


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 When he fully realized who his assailant was, and what had happened to him, he went fairly insane with rage.

With a shriek of fury that fairly made Freckles's hair stand up, and a bellow of rage that stampeded the camels, El Capitan charged his rival, sinking his mighty tusks deep into the Emperor's shoulder and causing him to give ground.

Sir Wilton wheeled with a frightened snort and broke away from Freckles, galloping madly back to the circus lot. The attendants upon the two elephants darted at them with their iron-pointed prods, but the animals paid no more attention than they would to flies.

For a few seconds Freckles stood rooted to the ground. He was so astonished and paralyzed with fear that he could not move. Then, as one of the fighting monsters gave ground, and the struggle moved a few feet nearer to him, Freckles, with the agility of a monkey, shinned up a small tree that stood conveniently near the road.

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 Here he was just out of the reach of the elephants and in full view of the fight,—a sort of reserved seat, as he afterwards told Mr. Williams.

As they fought, dealing blows with their great trunks that would have broken any but the thickest skulls, and thrusting with their mighty tusks with the force of battering-rams, they shrieked with pain and rage and roared with anger. Such blood-curdling sounds poor Freckles had never heard. Presently the Emperor gave ground and they crashed into a high board fence at the side of the road. It was leveled to the ground as though it had been made of straw. Round and round they went in the open lot, thrusting, striking, and bellowing with rage and pain. Then the fight swayed back into the road and another section of the fence went down. At this point one of the manager's helpers galloped up on a panting horse. Seeing the desperate character of the fight, he galloped away to the freight yards for the


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 elephant rifle which the management always carried. The poor Emperor, who was really not to blame for the fight, seemed to be getting the worst of it. He was not so strong nor so young as his assailant. His shoulders fairly ran blood from several gaping wounds inflicted by the sharp tusks of El Capitan.

Back and forth the fight swayed, but the Emperor was always the one to give ground. Finally, in an unlucky moment, El Capitan pinned him fairly against a tree by the roadside and then drove his tusks deep in his side, just back of the heart. With a mighty sigh of pain the great beast sank to his knees, just as the man with the elephant rifle galloped up.

One shot from the heavy gun, aimed at the heart, also brought Ell Capitan to his knees beside his vanquished foe, while another in the head laid him upon his side, within twenty feet of the tree where Freckles was still clinging.

It took only a few moments' scrutiny of


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 the Emperor to discover that he also was done for. So the third shot rang out, and the two huge beasts lay dead by the roadside, both having paid the price of their lives for the bad temper of El Capitan.

Freckles climbed down from his tree and went back to the circus grounds to look for Sir Wilton. To his surprise, when he appeared at the freight yards he found the sections were being loaded just as though nothing had happened.

The trains all pulled out on time, but there was one box car that was partly empty. The circus people were a little quieter than usual after the tragedy had been fully discussed, but the Great American Show went on.

Freckles learned the following day that the manager had telegraphed for two more elephants that very night, even before they left the freight yards. But the fight cost the company fifteen thousand dollars and one of the best trick elephants ever seen in the ring.


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RECKLES soon discovered in his new life that, although they did the same things each day, yet no two days were alike. Each morning in the early dawn, if they were lucky, they rolled into a new town. They unloaded the three sections in the same manner, yet the task always varied. Sometimes the circus lot was near by, but often it was quite distant from the railway. Sometimes it was pleasant, and sometimes it was rainy. Freckles soon learned that a long rainy spell is the circus man's worst bugbear, and that the rain gets on the nerves of the performers as almost no other calamity.

Each day they pitched the tented circus town upon the lot and made ready for the


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 day's business. But no two towns were alike. Some were clean and some were dirty. In some places the people were pleasant, and in others, disagreeable. Some towns did all they could to help the circus people, while others tried to hinder them. There was also a great difference in the crowds that came twice each day tc the big top to see the show. Some were easy to please and others hard. Some criticised, while others applauded each act regardless of whether it was good or bad.

But all this made very little difference with the performers. They went right on with their work, whether it rained or shone, whether the people applauded or hissed. Of course they were glad when they gave satisfaction, but all towns were alike to them, that is, they took no personal interest in any place; they could not, living in railway cars and white canvas tents.

Among themselves, however, they were like one great family. They always stood


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 together. Probably one of the most important people in the circus, from a human standpoint, was the circus mother. She was a large, matronly woman of about sixty. Her hair was gray and there were a few wrinkles on her brow, but her heart was only about sixteen, and her smile never failed, no matter what the trouble.

Every one called her mother, and she was mother to the whole circus; but really she was a matron, watching especially over the women and girls.

But this did not hinder the men and boys from bringing their troubles to her. It was from her that Freckles received the first real woman's love in his whole life, and he was accordingly grateful.

Not only did the circus mother see that all garments, and especially costumes and trappings, were mended and clean, but she always looked out for the spiritual welfare of her great family. Each season she took charge of the money affairs of some of the young men who were naturally


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 spendthrifts. Each week they gave her a portion of their pay. She guarded it carefully for them until the end of the season, and then gave it back to them with a bit of good advice about spending it.

Perhaps Freckles's best friend in the whole show was Big Bill, the head canvas-man. He was a tall, broad-shouldered chap, with a deep voice. He managed men as a general manages soldiers.

It was said on good authority that no canvas-man in the American show world could get so much out of a crew as could Big Bill. Yet he never bullied. He gave orders, and no one ever dreamed of disobeying them. When he gave an order and it proved too hard for his subordinate, the big fellow would himself take hold of the difficult task, throwing things right and left with his great strength, laughing at the crew's weakness all the time.

"You see, son," he would conclude, "your Uncle Bill don't ever ask anything of you boys that he can't do himself.


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 Everything is easy if you only take hold of it with a will."

Freckles's first acquaintance with. Big Bill was made one dark, rainy night when the circus was badly mired after the evening performance. Freckles himself had taken Dapples to his car and seen him safely aboard. He had then gone back to the lot to see the circus people get through the mud. Mr. Williams had remarked, in his way, that there would be the devil to pay when they started to move.

It had rained all day long. Even in the morning, when they had come to the lots, several of the wagons had been mired. That afternoon during the performance there had come a mighty downpour, which was like a cloudburst. Some of the trapeze work had been given up because the paraphernalia were so wet and slippery. In many places on the grounds the water stood six inches deep. One of the rings inside the big top was so badly flooded that it had to be abandoned, while


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 the others were six inches deep with sawdust. It was such a day as sends a chill down the spinal column of the circus people.

Although the night performance was only about half through, yet outside was a scene of wild excitement. The menagerie tent was down and packed, as well as the dining top and several other small tops. Yet there was not so much noise as would have been expected, for the men were rather silent. Three wagons seemed hopelessly mired on their way off the lot.

Four mighty elephants stood ready as soon as the horses had given up. They had their strong harnesses on, and were only awaiting the signal.

Freckles saw a twelve-horse team straining and hauling frantically on the heavy wagon. Presently the horses were taken off and two powerful elephants took their places. Ata word from their drivers they leaned forward and began straining on the load. To Freckles's great surprise the


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 mired wagon began slowly crawling out of the mud. Like ponderous machines, the great beasts moved forward, carrying the wagon to safety.

Once it was fairly off the lot, the horses were again hitched to it and the load went on its way in safety. But the faithful elephants went back for another mired wagon.

Everything seemed to go badly that night. The canvas was hard to handle. It would not roll up readily, and it was also very heavy.

One of the smaller tents had collapsed that afternoon, deluging the inmates with hogsheads of water that had collected on its top. This had precipitated a merry row, and several people had promised to sue the circus, to which the manager had smilingly assured them that he would pay for their soiled linen, but that he thought they really needed a good bath.

But amid all this confusion and seemingly hopeless plight towered the tall


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 figure of Big Bill, the head canvas-man. He stood like the giant he was, warding calamity away from the circus. The locomotives at the freight yard were shrieking for them to hurry. Horses were balking and harnesses breaking. Other men were sweating, and some of them even swearing softly to themselves, but Big Bill kept on smiling.

He was always at the point where things were going the worst. Everywhere he went he carried good cheer and brought order out of chaos.

At one point, when three wagons had become mired at once and everybody despaired of ever getting the outfit to the depot, Freckles saw Big Bill call one of the circus clowns who was also watching.

"Here, you merry loafer," cried the big fellow, "come lend a hand. You are not strong with your hands, but you are with your wits. A little fun, a bit of jollity, can do a pile to help these poor sweating devils out of this. Will you help?"


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 "Sure, Uncle Bill. What's my cue?"

"Well, you just go from place to place. Go where things are the worst. Crack a joke, a joke on the weather if you have one. Let it be a good one. Give 'em your best. Perhaps they will swear at you, but never mind. Keep at it until you get 'em to laugh. Once get 'em to laughing and we can beat this nasty storm."

Freckles was amazed at this advice. What could a joke do to help the plight of the circus? But he followed after the clown to see if Uncle Bill had advised well.

The man of mirth waddled up to the first wagon.

"Great night for ducks, buddies," he said.

"It's a better night for geese like you; get out of this," growled a husky driver.

Twas a goose that saved Rome," replied the clown. "And you can learn from a goose. Keep your feathers dry and don't go in swimming when it is rain-


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 ing. But this isn't any rain. Why, I once knew a rain so bad that the fish all ran up under a bridge to keep dry."

"Get out with your fish story," grinned the driver. "Don't you know any more than to be cracking your chestnuts here in the rain? But that is a good one—fish keeping dry in a brook under a bridge. Ha, ha, ha!"

Thus the clown went from wagon to wagon, from one bedraggled crew to another, taking sunshine with him, and sunshine was what they all needed.

Almost before they knew it, the men themselves were cracking jokes about the rain, and laughter had taken the place of imprecations. It was also surprising how much faster the wagons moved under the stimulus of laughter than they did when they were cursed. Everything took on a different aspect, and Freckles saw they would get clear after all.

"Going pretty good, sonny," said Big Bill, clapping Freckles on the back.


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 "Queer what a little fun will do in a tight pinch."

"Fun," said Freckles; "I guess that didn't have much to do with it. I guess it was all you. You are the brain of the circus when trouble comes."

"That's where you are wrong for once. I was almost stuck. I had done all that I could with my brute force. I had to have help of another sort. What the boys needed was cheering up. They had lost heart.

"Take it from me, Freckles, there isn't any problem in the world that can withstand a good-natured grin. It just stares old dark-faced trouble out of countenance. It will put the devil on the run every time. Remember that, boy. If you are in a hard place, in the circus or out, just meet your trouble with a grin. Grin inside and outside and you will beat it, because if you grin that means you will keep up your courage, and courage spells success with a capital S.


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 "Well, there goes the last wagon. Let's beat it for the freight yard."

Freckles never forgot the lesson; not even when he was grown up, and as tall, if not so broad-shouldered, as Big Bill himself.

Sunday with the circus people is really a day of rest and recreation.

The circus does not usually move more than seventy-five or a hundred miles between stands. But if they find themselves obliged to make a run of two hundred miles before a good city is reached, this run is planned for Saturday night and Sunday. So country people will often see the long, gaudy circus trains rumbling over the rails on a Sunday morning while the circus people make the best of this extra run. They come out on the platforms of the cars, or lie in the shade of the large wagons, reading, eating their lunches, or just visiting.

But if the run is only the usual length, the dining top and just a few tents, enough


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 to provide for the comfort of both beast and man, will be set up. The big top and all the side-show tents will remain on the trains until Monday morning. So it happened that Freckles had many a delightful Sunday after the long week's work, for Mr. Williams kindly allowed him to ride Dapples about the country on these days. It was a good advertisement for the circus, and it kept both boy and horse in fine condition.

After the week's strenuous work, the circus people were glad enough to have Sunday come around. Some of them even put on their best clothes and went to the nearest church.

It was a restless, feverish life that they lived, and at first Freckles found it rather tiring, although he liked it immensely. But he soon got used to the excitement and to sleeping on moving trains, so that in two months it was second nature to him. It even would have seemed strange


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 to climb into a bed that stayed still while he slept.

Mr. Williams was anxious to have the boy attempt to learn bareback riding, but he did not seem to care for it. After a few futile attempts it was decided that he had better stick to the exhibition driving and the trick-pony stunts. But he did teach Sir Wilton several new tricks.

At the manager's suggestion some fine photos of Freckles and Dapples were taken, and after each performance the boy would ride about on the small horse, selling these pictures. In this way they made many friends for the circus. They even had invitations to dine out, but the management always preferred that they should eat at home. Performing was not a succession of frolics, and all had to stick closely to the work in hand.

Among the athletes who interested Freckles was a young man called on the circus posters "Flying Fred." He was a spring-board jumper and somersault man.


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 He was a jolly, good-natured chap, always smiling. His greatest stunt was to jump over ten elephants standing side by side, and, as he jumped, he turned a double somersault. Like Freckles, he was an orphan.

He often confided to Freckles that it was his life's ambition to make the triple turn, but Freckles did not really appreciate the daring of the neck-breaking stunt. The management had always refused to let Flying Fred try it. They knew of too many good athletes that had died in the attempt. But Flying Fred bided his time and took no one into his confidence.

One morning, just after Freckles had been in the ring, putting Sir Wilton through some new tricks, to his surprise the ten huge elephants came marching in. This was unusual, so he stopped with Dapples beside the farther ring to see what was up.

The spring-board was in place, and Fly-


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 ing Fred was limbering up with some preliminary jumps. He had told the manager that he wished to try a new arrangement of the elephants. He thought it would be possible to place them farther apart, and so make his jump longer and more spectacular. At last the management had reluctantly consented to the experiment.

But Flying Fred had kept his real purpose safely hidden in his own mind. Freckles finally led Dapples over close to the other ring, that he might get a better view of the jump.

It looked to him like a terrible leap, but these marvelous athletes did such unbelievable things that he did not doubt Flying Fred would clear the elephants all right. At last all was ready. The signal was given and the spring-board was released.

With a bang the board flew up, and the athlete shot high in air. When he was at the highest point, he reached forward with his hands and locked them around his legs


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 below his knees. Then they saw the muscles on his arms and back stand out as he strained to start himself to turning. Over he went with even more than the usual velocity. Again he turned, and then the circus people who were watching caught their breath, for he had started for the third turn, but was not quick enough.

Either the jump was not long enough, or his straining muscles were not working hard enough, for he made only half of the third turn and struck on his forehead in the net. There was a snap like the report of a pistol, and the circus people all went pale. A dozen men sprang to the aid of the foolish fellow. Carefully they lifted him and laid him on the grass. But he was past human aid, for his neck had been broken.

He was just one more victim on the long list that had paid the price for the dangerous experiment.

That noon at dinner Mr. Bingham spoke very seriously to his great family.


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 There were tears in his eyes, and he had to stop more than once.

"Friends," he said, "I am more sorry than I have words to tell, for what has happened. I myself have several times warned the young man against trying this dangerous experiment. We did not even dream of what he had in mind, or we would have stopped him. The lives of our performers we value much higher than any new and daring stunt."

There was an incident that occurred during the parade in a small New England city which Freckles and Dapples never forgot. The dappled Shetland and the shiny phaeton always went just in front of the wagon carrying the lion cage. On this particular morning everything was going off just as usual. The bands were blaring, the calliopes shrieking, and clowns were shouting to make the people laugh, when of a sudden Freckles noticed a great commotion on the sidewalk just behind him. The disturbance was of such


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 a wild character that he turned his head and looked back. The sight that met his eyes struck terror to his own soul, although he was acquainted with all the ways of the circus.

One of the strong doors on the lion cage had swung partly open, and Leo, the largest of all the lions, was in the act of springing to the pavement. Even as Freckles gazed thunderstruck at the sight, the mighty cat leaped lightly to the street. Women shrieked, and some of them even fainted. Men caught up small children in their arms and fled with them through the doors of the nearest store. There was such a scramble as the main street of that quiet city had never seen before.

Meanwhile the innocent cause of the panic looked fearfully about. He seemed as much disturbed and afraid as the spectators. Then, seeing a clear space for a few rods along the pavement ahead, he trotted directly alongside of the phaeton drawn by Sir Wilton. This was enough


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 for Dapples, and he bolted. Freckles barely guided him by the wagon ahead, and then he brought up against a telephone pole and was thrown to the ground.

Freckles sprang out and sat upon his head until assistance came.

Just at this point in the melee two policemen appeared and began shooting at Leo with their revolvers.

They merely succeeded in wounding him slightly, but they did frighten him nearly to death.

Poor Leo, who had no savage intent toward any one, ran this way and that. Finally he spied a restaurant through whose open door a curious individual was peering out. It looked dark inside to the eyes of the hunted lion, and, before the onlookers realized what was happening, the great cat had reached the door with two springs and was through, sending the proprietor flat on his back.

As luck would have it, the eating-room was not filled with customers, as it would


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 have been a little later, but several people were getting a hurried lunch preparatory to seeing the circus. A waiter had just appeared with a tray containing several cups of hot coffee.

As the beast in his flight made straight for him, the waiter hurled the tray of hot coffee full upon the lion's back. With a howl of pain the frightened beast dashed under a table, upsetting it, and sending the dishes crashing to the floor. This seemed to add to his fright, for he came out from under the table and made for the cellar door, which happened to be open, another waiter having just brought up a consignment of ice-cream.

Down the narrow stairs the terrified beast fled, taking the flight at two bounds. The proprietor of the eating-room by this time appeared, and locked and bolted the cellar door, making the escaped lord of the jungle a captive. Then the two policemen came and stood guard at the door.

By this time a report had spread on the


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 street that poor Leo had killed two people in the restaurant, and that he was eating one of them in the cellar.

Luckily at this point two of the lion keepers appeared, and, armed merely with clubs, went into the cellar. They found the much-maligned lion hiding away in a dark corner.

He was finally roped and dragged from his place of hiding, put into a temporary cage, and then carried back to the circus lot. When he was given the chance to get back into his own cage, he was the happiest lion in North America.

The local paper afterwards described him as a ferocious beast that had narrowly missed killing half a dozen people. It told of how he had been captured in his native jungle with the loss of the lives of several natives, and congratulated the city on having escaped with such small damage. As a matter of fact, Leo had been the most frightened creature on Main Street that day. He had also been born in captivity,


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 and many of the circus people had played with him when he was a cub. So you cannot always believe all you read about the circus.

Thus it was that day after day and week after week, the life of Freckles and Dapples went on. They were constantly on the move. The first thing in the morning they unloaded and hurried away to the circus lot, and the last thing at night they loaded again and were off. It finally became as natural to them as any other life would have been, but it was never monotonous, and although they did the same thing each day, yet the experience was never the same. Putting up the white tented city and parading, showing twice, and then hurrying for the freight station does not sound like an extended program, but when you move a hundred miles each night between stands, and meet new conditions at each new place, things are bound to happen that are not on the program.

More and more, as the days went by,


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 Freckles learned to love the circus people. For the first time in his short life he experienced real love. Mr. Williams, Big Bill, the head canvas-man, the circus mother, and a dozen others Freckles claimed for his friends. Good friends they were, and true, for there is a sort of fraternity that attains in the circus. The hard daily grind and the risk that many of them run make them all brothers and sisters. That was why Mr. Bingham always called the circus people his family. They were always loyal to each other. If any one attacked any of the circus people, he attacked all. They stood together and they always stood for the circus.

With the children there was not a more popular feature in the whole show than the stunts of Freckles and Sir Wilton. They first attracted the little ones in the morning parade, and held their attention until the lights went out at night. This pleased Freckles greatly, for he had always felt himself as out of place in the world, but


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 now he had found a work that was very pleasant, so the days and weeks were happy ones for both the boy and the little horse.


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NE of the ever-present bugbears of the circus management is railroad wrecks. An assistant manager for Barnum and Bailey tells that he was in thirteen wrecks in twelve years, and he thought himself lucky to escape with his life. This is not strange, for the circus trains are ever on the move. But even this would not account for so many wrecks, were it not for the fact that the trains are always run as specials, being shoved in between others, and often held up on sidings while the regular trains thunder by, so it is not strange that they often come to grief.

Moreover, no company will insure a circus against either accidents or fire. So the owners are their own insurance company,


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 and in a very bad wreck or fire small circuses often go bankrupt.

Freckles had heard little about train wrecks up to the time of the wreck at Cedar Bend. This will go down in history as the worst wreck in the annals of circus people. These people rarely speak of their dangers, but bluff them away with smiling faces. Many of the trapeze men and tumblers look death in the face each day, but they soon learn to cover up their fear and smile at danger.

Freckles had always felt as safe upon the train as he did off. He could sleep as well to the sound of rattling car-wheels and clicking rails, as he could to the night sounds in the country.

So the great wreck at Cedar Bend, to his boyish mind, came out of a clear sky. It might not have occurred, had not the American railroads been handling a very heavy consignment of United States troops.

It was during the first year that we were


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 in the great war, and troop-trains had the right of way.

Cedar Bend is a smoky, noisy, manufacturing town in Indiana. It is also a railroad junction of no mean order, so it is a place where trouble is liable to occur.

The first section of the circus outfit had come into town and had been shunted upon a switch. The second section had been following it very closely, instead of half an hour behind, which is the usual way, so the second section was standing on the main track.

Investigation has never fully established how it happened, but a troop-train crashed into the rear end of it, and at the same time a local freight crashed into the front end. Then switch-men in the yards saw a sight that they had rarely seen before. The train buckled, and ten of the heavy cars reared in air. It looked for all the world like a huge serpent that had reared its back. This of course broke all the couplings, so the cars came down in a


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 sorry heap and went tumbling and crashing this way and that. Three of the cars almost immediately burst into flames. This was the section that contained many of the best ring and trick horses, and also the large animals like the elephants and camels, It was also the section in which rode our two friends, Freckles and Dapples. Freckles himself was in the second sleeper from the locomotive, and Sir Wilton was about midway in the train.

The whistle on one of the wrecked locomotives, being turned on by the smash, set up a continuous shriek, while the other engine emitted a roaring stream of steam, that made more noise than the whistle.

If a combination to produce blood-curdling sounds had been planned, it could not have outdone the noise made by this medley of wild animals, many of them horribly mangled and some of them imprisoned in the burning cars.

There was the trumpeting and shrieking of elephants, the roaring of lions, the


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 neighing of horses and camels, the braying and hehawing of zebras, and a chorus of cries from smaller animals that added to the infernal din.

Soldiers swarmed from the troop-train and hurried to the assistance of the circus people. If it had not been that so many capable men were at hand, the fatalities would have been much greater. As it was, in almost no time several hundred men were breaking windows and chopping holes in the sides of cars and releasing struggling horses and men. The animals which seemed to be hopelessly maimed were mercifully shot, as were those threatened by the flames. All of the elephants but one whose back had been broken, burst out of their cars and stampeded through the crowd. One of the lion cages was broken open and two scared lions fled through the crowd, also.

The first thing that Freckles noticed out of the ordinary was a sudden lifting of his berth. It seemed to be rising straight up


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 with him, and bits of glass were pelting his hands and face. Then something struck his head, and he felt a queer, faint, sinking sensation and all was dark.

Five minutes later several brawny soldiers had broken their way into the half-telescoped sleeper, where eight of the circus people were dead, and lifted poor Freckles from his splintered berth and tenderly placed him in an ambulance. Two of his best friends were in the ambulance ahead of him.

Big Bill, the head canvas-man, was suf fering from two broken legs, while Mr. Williams had luckily escaped with a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle, and several cuts from flying glass.

As the ambulance moved away, Big Bill lifted himself up on his elbow and looked outside.

"My God, Williams!" he said. "Look here, and tell me what you think of this. If it doesn't beat anything I ever came across in the ten wrecks I have been


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 through." Mr. Williams peeped through the window, and saw a dappled Shetland pony following the ambulance, his nose close to the side of the car, as though he feared it would get away from him, and he was running on three legs.

Big Bill brushed the tears from his eyes and swore softly under his breath, while Mr. Williams tried hard to cover his own feelings.

"Do you think that Sir Wilton knows the boy is inside?" asked the manager at length.

"Knows he is inside?" fairly snorted Bill. "Why, man alive, of course he does. Do you think he would be chasing the ambulance like that, on three legs, if he didn't? I tell you, Williams, I have seen some circus horses in my day. Ihave seen the best of them come and go, but I never in my blooming life saw a horse that loved his driver as Dapples does the kid."

"Well," returned Mr. Williams, "I guess that is so. I have seen some good


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 drivers and horsemen in my day, and I never saw a driver small or big who loved a horse as Freckles does Sir Wilton."

"You're right, Williams," returned the big fellow gruffly.

At this point in the conversation Mr. Williams spoke to the driver of the ambulance, and bade him go slow, that Sir Wilton might keep up.

The first thing that Freckles remembered after the sensation that his berth in the sleeper was rising up with him, was that of being in a clean white bed in a long quiet room. There were many other beds in this room,—a long row of them,—and on the pillow of each bed was a head, and all were the heads of children. Just what they were doing there he could not imagine. His own thoughts were all in a jumble. His head ached terribly, and there was a queer bag on it. It seemed to be full of something very cold. When he moved his head and pressed it against the contents of the bag, it felt better.


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 A pleasant young woman, whom he did not think he had ever seen before, came to him now and then and did something for him. In fact, this young woman was constantly going up and down the room. There was also a friendly man, who wore a large pair of glasses. He came to see him twice a day, but who he was, poor Freckles could not even imagine.

He tried and tried to think where he was, or who these people might be, but could not. When he asked the young woman, she explained it all to him, but even then he could not make it clear.

When she said something about a wreck and Bingham and Daily's circus, he thought he ought to understand, but he could not. So she finally told him not to bother his head about it, but that it would all come right soon.

The first thing that he did realize was the name of his friend, Sir Wilton.

He smiled up at the nurse.

"Yes," he said, "seems to me I did


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 know him. He was a wonderful little horse. I used to ride him up in the pasture at the poor-farm."

"No," said the nurse. "It was in the circus. Bingham and Daily's big show. Don't you remember? You know it was wrecked last week."

"The circus was wrecked?" asked Freckles incredulously, showing interest for the first time. "Was that what made my berth rise up so quickly?"

Then a clutch of great fear seized the half-delirious boy.

"Oh, lady!" he cried. "What became of Dapples? My little horse! The one I used to ride! Was he killed?"

"Oh, no," replied the nurse quickly. "He is all right. The circus man had him brought to a stable right near the hospital, and when you are well, you can ride him."

But at this point poor Freckles's mind went cloudy again.

"Dapples was killed in the wreck," he moaned. "There was a wreck and he


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 was killed in it. I sha'n't ever see him again."

Vainly the nurse tried to explain to him that Dapples was all right, and that he would see him soon, but she could not get out of the boy's head the idea that Sir Wilton had been killed.

As Freckles insisted on the following day that Sir Wilton had been killed, and seemed much worse, the steward at the hospital, without telling any one, after getting leave of the superintendent, tried a novel experiment. He had read once of how Archie Roosevelt had been sick, and Kermit, his brother, had conceived the idea that if he could see his favorite pony it would cure him. So Kermit had coaxed the pony into the elevator at the White House, and had conducted the small horse safely to his brother's room on the third floor. If that sort of thing could be done in the White House, it could be done in the hospital, especially as the children's ward was on the first floor.


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 About three o'clock that afternoon the children in the ward saw the strangest sight ever beheld in the hospital. This was when the groom from the stable led Sir Wilton into the ward and down to the cot of his driver.

At first Freckles thought he was asleep, and that it was all a dream, but when Dapples's nose touched his hand he was convinced. The nurse would only let the pony stay a very few minutes, but this was enough to convince Freckles that his friend was alive and well.

This was the turning point in Freckles's sickness. It broke the delirium, and from that day on he mended rapidly. In a week's time he was placed in a wheel-chair and wheeled out on a large piazza, where the groom again brought Sir Wilton for a longer visit. Two weeks from that day Freckles again rode the small horse. He did not go alone, though, for the groom walked by his side and led the pony, and even held Freckles in the saddle, but


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 it was a start. After that each day the groom came and they took a short ride.

Just a month after Freckles had been brought to the hospital he was able to go alone with Dapples, and they had a fine long ride in the country.

Freckles was all eagerness to be back with the circus, but Mr. Williams would not hear of it. He said the boy needed rest after such a shake-up as that. So he arranged to board both horse and rider at a small hotel on the outskirts of Cedar Bend, where they were to remain until the circus went into winter quarters in about a month.

So Freckles and Dapples spent a very happy month, taking long excursions into the country. But the boy was not content to be whally idle, so he taught Sir Wilton several new tricks with which to surprise Mr. Williams. The circus people had been so good to him that he wanted to repay them in some way.


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 Freckles also took this time to write long letters to Pickles and Beany.

He painted the circus life in gay colors, but always wound up with the earnest assurance that they were much better off at home.

The circus wreck made thrilling reading for the two chums, and they showed Freckles's letters to all the other boys in the town.

Finally, on a chilly day in late November, both Sir Wilton and his driver started on the long trip to California, where the circus was to go into winter quarters. But they could not go together, much as Freckles wished they might, for Sir Wilton had to travel in a freight car, while his driver went on a passenger train.

Freckles knew that he would arrive in California several days ahead of his small companion, but he tried to be patient, for they would be together again for the winter, with leisure for long drives in the land of sunshine.


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O a simple country boy like Freckles, who had scarcely been outside his own town before he joined the circus, the trip across the great western plains to California was a revelation. If he was amazed at the endless stretches of western prairie land, he was still more amazed at the sight of the Rockies with their snow-capped peaks. Higher and higher the train mounted, until the summit was reached, and then they dropped down into the land of sunshine, so beloved by all Californians.

They did not stop in the middle of the state, but journeyed southward toward Los Angeles, down into the southern portion of the state, and finally Freckles


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 alighted at the small town where the circus had its winter quarters.

Mr. Williams was at the station to meet the boy, and he greeted him with almost a father's affection.

"Well, Freckles, my son," said the old circus man, "I am mighty glad to see you. You are certainly looking fit. It was a close call you had, but both you and Sir Wilton came out all right. How is the little horse?"

"Oh, he's just fine! He gets brighter and brighter every day. I have been teaching him some new tricks. I am going to surprise you when we show again."

Mr. Williams led the way to the circus headquarters, where everybody was already settling down to the winter task of repairing the damage and wear of the season just passed. Some would go home or seek other jobs, but many would stay all winter. The girls and women, under the direction of the circus mother, would repair the costumes and trappings and at-


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 tend to the wardrobes of each member. So, although they were supposed to be laid off, yet it would be a busy season.

Sir Wilton did not arrive for nearly a week, and Freckles was very impatient until he came. When he did finally appear, the boy left his dinner untasted and hurried away to the freight yard for his friend. If Freckles was glad to see Dapples, the Shetland was also delighted to see his driver, and he nickered and pawed vigorously until he was unloaded, and then went nosing into Freckles's pockets, to see if he could find a lump of sugar, and, sure enough, he did.

Freckles and Sir Wilton at once set to exploring as much of southern California as they could reach in every direction by a day's ride.

The beautiful country was quite different from anything Freckles had ever seen. The great eucalyptus trees and the catalpas, the fruit farms, especially the prune orchards and citrus groves, asparagus


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 fields, and the strange little patchwork farms of the Japanese, all made him open his eyes with wonder.

Of course there was the rainy season to reckon with. It rained an hour or two each day, but the earth was always so fresh and beautiful after it that they did not mind. Freckles had never imagined that there was a country where he could hear the quail whistling all through the winter, and where roses would bloom nearly the whole year through.

The strawberries, also, which were just as plenty in winter as in summer, were always in evidence on the table. Truly it was a wonderful country.

Then, for diversion, some of the moving-picture people hired the elephants and camels for pictures. Freckles was allowed to go along and see the fun. He saw battles between the drivers of heavily loaded caravans and dark Moors. He saw elephant hunts, and cowboy stunts that even amazed him, good horseman that he was.


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 Then Mr. Williams got leave from Mr. Bingham for Freckles and Sir Wilton to show in some of the local theaters. Dapples was so small that he trotted about on the theater stage like a large dog. He and Freckles were prime favorites with the children, and they became the matinée idols of southern California. Mr. Bingham allowed the boy half of what he made in this way, so that he saved several hundred dollars that winter. This amount the circus mother carefully hoarded for him.

The only tragic event in the circus that winter was a fire that came very near taking both Freckles and Sir Wilton from the show. It would seem that a circus, when in its winter quarters, would be perfectly safe, but this is not the case. Many of the large buildings in which the animals, birds, and snakes are kept, have to be artificially heated.

These heating plants are temporary and very crude, so that fires often occur. This,


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 in fact, is the circus owner's winter bugbear.

Mr. P. T. Barnum lost nearly his entire circus through a big fire at Bridgeport, Connecticut, one winter, and he was burned out in New York City the same year.

The California fire started in the snake house. These reptiles are very sluggish in winter, and it is well not to let them get too thoroughly chilled. The bird house is also artificially heated, and the monkeys, which are tropical animals, have to be kept warm.

No one knew how the fire started. Perhaps it was set. The managers had discharged a couple of workmen the day before. The circus buildings were several blocks away from the main part of the town, so that the fire had gained considerable headway before it was discovered or word could be sent to the fire department.

When Mr. Williams and Freckles ar-


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 rived on the scene, the snake house, in which were also the monkeys, the tropical birds, and many of the more delicate animals, was wrapped in flames. Most of the animals had been taken out.

Freckles gave the snake house only a hurried glance, and then sped away to several long, low buildings where the horses were kept.

These had been prune storehouses. In fact, nearly all the buildings now occupied by the circus had belonged to a bankrupt prune farm.

Several of the grooms slept in these buildings, so when Freckles arrived, he found a long row of most valuable circus horses lined up like cavalry horses, with their bridles snapped together and several men holding them. Of course Freckles's first thought was for Sir Wilton.

Up and down the line of restless steeds he raced, looking for his friend. None of the grooms had seen him, but they thought of course he was out of the building.


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 Finally Freckles, in his mad search, stumbled on a groom who had seen him.

"I am afraid he is in the building, boy," he said. "I saw him there, and tried to get him out, but he would not come. He was as spunky as a mule. So I said to him, 'Stay and burn if you want to, you little fool.

A cordon of rope surrounded the burning building, and several bluecoats stood around it, perhaps thirty feet apart.

"Whereabouts in the building was he?" asked Freckles, feigning not to care.

"In the third stall at this end. He is not far from the door, but the roof is liable to fall in any minute."

The groom turned to speak to one of the policemen, and Freckles slipped under the rope.

"Here, here, boy. What are you doing? Come back! For God's sake, come back," cried the policeman. "It is sure death to go in there."

Freckles paid no attention to this warn-


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 ing, but ran like a streak for the partly open door. A second later he slipped inside, and the dark, seething, burning building had hidden him from sight.

Freckles's first impression, as he darted into the flaming building, was that he could never live in it long enough to find Dapples. The smoke was so thick that he could scarcely draw a breath, while the flames in a more distant portion of the building roared and crackled ominously.

Should he go back, or should he go forward? The policeman had called to him to come back, perhaps he ought to. But then, in a flash, he thought of a hundred loving little acts of Dapples. How he had rubbed his face against his cheek in the hospital. How his soft lips went feeling over his hands, or prospecting curiously in his pocket for sugar. Sometimes it had seemed to Freckles, as he leaned against the little horse in the big top, where thousands of people were staring at them both, that he could fairly feel love come from


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 him. Dapples had, in some unaccountable way, discovered him, when he was lifted from the wrecked sleeper and placed in the ambulance, and then had trotted on three legs to the hospital after him. Would he be less faithful than the little horse? No, not even if he burned to a crisp. He had come into the building to rescue his friend, and he would accomplish that feat or die in the attempt. Anyhow, life would not be worth living if he lost Dapples, so they might just as well burn together.

With this brave assurance, Freckles seemed to take heart. He held his head as low as he could, as the smoke was much thinner near the ground. So, with one hand thrust out in front of him in order to ward off danger, he crept forward. He reached the first stall, and felt between the partitions, but it was empty. Carefully he made his way forward to the second; that also was empty. Then he went forward to the third. The groom had said


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 that Sir Wilton was in the third stall. The smoke was now so thick that it choked him terribly. It did not seem to him that he could draw another breath, but Dapples must be saved.

He reached the third stall and put out his hand, but that was as empty as the rest had been. Freckles groaned aloud, and nearly sank to the floor with a sudden weakness that came over him.

Then he remembered something which was almost like an inspiration.

He had taught Sir Wilton to neigh in answer to a shrill whistle. This was the way they talked. He would whistle and Dapples would nicker.

Perhaps the trick would help them now. So Freckles put his two fingers between his lips and blew a shrill whistle. To his great joy, the Shetland nickered, and the sound was very close to him.

He must be in the very next stall. The groom had been mistaken. He was in the fourth stall instead of the third. Joyously


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 Freckles slipped in beside his pony friend and felt for the halter rope, but in his haste he pulled the rope the wrong way, and instead of having it come untied with almost a single pull, it tightened into a hard knot.

Frantically Freckles worked at the knot, but it was very persistent.

Some one was shouting and calling from the doorway for him to come out.

When he had nearly despaired of ever getting the rope untied, the knot yielded and Sir Wilton was free.

Then Freckles remembered that the groom had said Dapples was as stubborn as a mule. He had often read of horses that would not let their best friends lead them from a burning building until they were blindfolded. Would Sir Wilton fail him now he had risked so much?

He did not think so, but he would take no chances. So he slapped the little horse in a friendly way that he had when he wanted immediate and prompt obedience


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 from him, and backed him out of the stall.

The smoke and the heat were now becoming unendurable. With all possible haste, he groped his way blindly to the door. He must be quick if he would save both himself and Dapples. The smoke was choking him like a great hand laid upon his throat. It also seemed that a heavy weight was on his chest. Then he stumbled into the outer daylight where strong hands caught both him and the end of Dapples's halter. They had barely dragged the two to safety when the roof fell in and a great shower of sparks flamed up to the heavens. It was a mighty close call, as Big Bill said, but, even so, Freckles fainted as he saw the building collapse.

He came back to life, however, a few minutes later, and found himself lying en the grass, while half a dozen of the circus people crowded about him.

"Is Sir Wilton all right?" he gasped feebly.


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 "You bet he is, and so are you," said Mr. Williams cheerily. "You just want a few minutes to get your wind."

It seemed to Freckles that he would want a long time to get back his breath and his strength, for now that the danger was all over he was scared nearly out of his wits. He wondered how he could ever have done it. But it had been worth the effort, even if he had fainted. Sir Wilton had stuck by him when he was half dead in the wrecked train, and he had stood by the little horse. They would always stand by each other as long as Sir Wilton lived.

And he remembered with a thrill of joy that Shetlands lived in some cases for thirty or even forty years. He and Dapples would yet have joyous days.

The following noon at dinner Mr. Bingham told the story of the heroic rescue to his now sadly diminished family, as they gathered in the special dining-room which they occupied at a small hotel. While he praised Freckles's act, yet he warned his


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 employees against taking too great risks to save the animals under such conditions. "Because," he concluded, "you know we can buy Shetlands and any of the other animals that we may lose, but a human life cannot be duplicated."

Mr. Bingham was very kind, and Freckles appreciated his generous words, but just the same he knew that they could not buy another Dapples, not even with all Mr. Bingham's money.

But the rank and file of the circus people agreed with Freckles. Many of them would have done the same thing for the animals they loved. So they made up a purse for the boy, who was thunderstruck to find that it contained two hundred dollars.

This is the way the great circus family sticks together. They are true brothers and sisters. If one is in trouble, all are in trouble. No men or women in the world will dig deeper into their pockets for their friends, or a good cause, than they.


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 So it was that Freckles and Dapples wormed their way a little deeper into the kind hearts of their friends. More and more of that human love, which is so essential to our happiness, surrounded them and made them very glad, glad that they were alive and that they belonged to each other.

"Dapples, old pal," said Freckles confidentially one day as he put the small saddle on Sir Wilton, preparatory to taking a ten-mile ride into the country, "I am going to save up my money. Every cent I get I am going to save, and some day I am going to buy you of Mr. Bingham. Then we will leave the circus and go back home and be happy all the rest of our lives. What do you think of that, Dapples?"

Dapples thought it was fine, and said so as plainly as a small horse could, with several glad whinnies. Then Freckles sprung into the saddle, and they were off, to the glad rhythm of small hoofs.


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N the very early spring the circus people were astir. They had been idle too long. The expenses for the winter months were enormous, so the great machine must be set to work repairing the losses. Once again the three gaudy, gilded sections were loaded. The cars and the wagons had all been freshly painted, and much of the canvas had been renewed, so it was more of a gilded wonderland than ever. The circus first made glad the hearts of all the children, as well as of their elders, in southern California, by showing in all the large cities in that section. Then they came through Texas to Louisiana.


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 Frequently in these States the large cities were a long distance apart, so sometimes the circus people only showed every other day. They found the people of the South, both white and black, a pleasureloving folk, and easy to please. It was quite different from what it had been years before in the South, when the rowdyish element of the city would band together to break up the show. Freckles never tired of listening to Big Bill's tales of wild fights with southern gun-men. When the rowdies had fairly started a fight, the brawny canvas-men would pull up the stakes with iron rings in the end and charge them, striking to kill. Many a man was buried in the place where the three great rings had been, and the circus went on its way, telling no tales and asking no questions. If their own men were killed, they said nothing. If they had to kill their assailants, they were equally reticent.

So, by slow degrees, they worked their way up to the north. At New York they


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 stopped for three weeks, and Freckles and Dapples had the supreme test of playing before a Madison Square audience, just as Pickles had said they would. So when June came round they were once more showing in New England, and rapidly approaching Freckles's own home town, where they were billed to show just as they had the year before.

When they at last drew up on the siding in the very freight yard where Freckles, Pickles, and Beany had first seen the long trains enter, Freckles's heart was pounding so he could scarcely breathe.

Eagerly he peeped out of the window, and could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Pickles and Beany astride the top board of that famous fence, and half a dozen other boys with them. He hurried into his clothes, and, without waiting to wash his face, ran forth to greet his friends.

"Hello, Pickles; hello, Beany; hello, fellers. Don't you all know me?"


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 Pickles and Beany rubbed their eyes and looked at him wonderingly. Then both came down from the fence with a spring, as did the other boys.

"Hello, Freckles, old top; put it there," cried Pickles.

"Me too," said Beany. "We are mighty glad to see you. We have been here since three o'clock, but we didn't think you were with the show. We didn't know what had become of you when we saw that Leslie Atherton chap was a-driving Sir Wilton.

"We was afraid you was dead. We read about the wreck."

"No," said Freckles gleefully. "I ain't dead. I thought I had told you fellers that I had a circus name. They all does. I guess I forgot to write you that. But I am mighty glad to see you fellers. I tell you, boys, the old town does look good. It has made me feel mighty queer coming back here again. Me and Sir Wilton thinks the world of each other, and I


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 like the circus, but it ain't just the sort of life for a boy, neither.

"You don't stay still in one place long enough to like anything. You can't get any sort of roots. You—you"

Seeing that Pickles and Beany were looking very much dismayed, Freckles changed the subject. "Oh, the circus people are bully," he said. "They are the best folks in the whole world, only a feller like me ought to be going to school and making friends. But I am going to ask Mr. Williams for some tickets for you, Beany and Pickles, and after the show we will go out to the old pile of lumber where we sat a year ago, and I will tell you all about it. I have got to get Sir Wilton and go to the lot now. Guess I won't have any trouble in finding this lot. So long, fellers."

Freckles had tipped his chums off not to say anything about his being with the circus, so that not half a dozen people in the great audience recognized him as the freckle-faced waif from the poor-farm


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 To Freckles's great relief, Mr. Perkins did not appear, so he was spared that ordeal.

Probably Freckles had never performed before two such ardent admirers as Pickles and Beany, sitting on the top seat in the big top, munching peanuts.

By half-past four the three chums had rendezvoused at the lumber pile, and were ready for the conclave.

"Freckles," said Pickles solemnly, when they had listened breathlessly to Freckles's glowing accounts of circus life, and especially of the wreck and the fire, "me and Beany has determined that the circus is the only life for us. We are planning to run away and follow your show. We packed our things this forenoon, and we want you to speak to the manager for us this afternoon."

Freckles gazed at his two chums in astonishment. Then he burst into a hearty laugh. "I thought you fellers were in earnest at first," he said, "but I see now you was just joking."


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 "Joking!" chorused the two. "We ain't joking. We want to go with the circus. Honest Injun, we do!"

Freckles looked at his chums for several seconds before he could find his voice. Then he spoke very solemnly and with great emphasis.

"Boys," he said, "the circus is all right for them that has to follow it. I ain't saying a word against it. They are awful good to me. They are the best friends I ever had, 'cepting you fellers. But here's the point. You have both got something that I ain't. You have got homes and friends that will stay in one place long enough for you to know how they look. The circus people have only themselves. They haven't any home. Of course, some of them who are lucky have homes they go to in the winter, and mighty glad they are to see them. But you fellers have homes and friends and school, and a chance to make something of yourselves. But I have only the circus. The circus is all


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 right, but me and Dapples is goin' to quit it as soon as I can get money enough to buy him."

Then Freckles told his two friends of his secret plans to save his money and purchase Sir Wilton. "You see, I can't ever leave the circus without him. It would break my heart. He wouldn't be happy unless he had me, so we have got to stick together."

For half an hour Freckles argued and expostulated, until at last his friends saw their mistake and promised to stay at home. But Freckles did finally agree that they might put their savings into the fund to purchase Sir Wilton, if he was unable to save enough himself.

Even while the boys were talking, the sun touched the western hilltops, and Freckles hurried away to the dining top for his supper. The circus never stops for friendships, nor for any other minor consideration. So after the night performance, and after the sections had been


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 loaded, the three chums again said good-bye, just as they had a year before, and the trains rolled away into the darkness.

The summer was a very pleasant one, with not too much rainy weather and yet with just enough to lay the dust. Freckles and Dapples grew steadily in popularity with the crowds, and that was very gratifying both to Freckles and to the management. If Dapples was proud of his share in the performances, he said nothing, but he really carried himself as though he was.

In the autumn Mr. Bingham sprung a surprise upon his great family. It was about the time that they usually headed for the Pacific coast and their winter quarters.

It seemed that one of the strong South American governments had given them a good guarantee to bring the Great American Show to that country. It was also suggested that they might like to show in the rest of South America. The people


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 there had never seen a full-fledged American show, and they were all eagerness for its coming.

Mr. Bingham asked for a rising vote as to whether his great family would like to take the trip, and nearly every one arose.

"Good," he said. "I will close the contract at once. It will be a great experience for us all."

So in November, Freckles found himself one day watching the loading of the elephants onto a great ship. Most of the animals had been taken aboard on the gangplanks, but the elephants balked at this method of embarking. So strong harnesses had been made for the pachyderms, and, when everything was in readiness, a mighty crane reached down and lifted them bodily on board. It did not matter that they roared, trumpeted, shrieked, and lashed out with their trunks. For once they had met a power that was stronger than they.

Finally every last article belonging to


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 the circus had been loaded. The ninety-odd gilded and gaudy cars were all there, as were all the wagons and cages.

For a week everything went well. It was a wonderful experience for Freckles. He kept his eyes wide open and saw how everything was done. He went to every corner of the great ship, even down into its very depths and saw the stokers at work.

During this trip he also made several new friends among the circus people. Each day he was allowed to parade Dapples up and down the deck to give him exercise, although this privilege was denied the rest of the horses.

But one night, when they had been out about two weeks, the winds began to kick up quite a sea and the captain said they were in for a storm. To make the night even more eventful, Tom Kennedy, the oldest and most famous bareback horse in the world, died. He had not been well since they left New York. This was not


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 surprising, as he was thirty-six years old, Mr. Bingham's only idea in taking him to South America had been to allow the people there to see the most famous circus horse in the world.

Two of the riders who had grown up with old Tom stood by the rail and wept when the veterinary told them that Tom was dead. They were not ashamed of their tears. Nor did the circus people think it strange that they wept. Tom was greatly loved by all the riders, as well as by many of the drivers, who knew a fine horse when they saw it.

The following morning the storm had abated, and all was made ready for Tom's funeral. His body was first carefully brushed and his long mane combed and straightened. Then he was wrapped in a canvas winding-sheet.

A double row of the circus people lined up by the rail, while one of their number read the chapter from the book of Job about the horse, a portion of Holy Writ


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164174 [sic] by Gandharvas and Apsaras (the celestial singers and dancing-maids.) And because he coursed through the upper regions, therefore was he called Uparichara. And by his capital flowed a river called Shuktimati. And that river was once attacked by a life-endued mountain called Kolahala maddened by lust. And Vasu, beholding the foul attempt, struck the mountain with his foot. And by the indentation caused by Vasu's stamp, the river came out (of the embraces of Kolahala.) But the mountain begat in the river two children that were twins. And the river, grateful to Vasu for his having set her free from Kolahala's embraces, gave them both to Vasu. And the child that was male was made by Vasu—that best of royal sages and giver of wealth and the punisher of his enemies—the generalissimo of his forces. But the daughter, called Girika—was by Vasu made his wife.

"And Girika the wife of Vasu, when her season came, becoming pure after a bath, represented her state unto her lord. But that very day, the Pitris of Vasu came unto that best of monarchs and foremost of the wise, and asked him to slay deer (for their Shradha.) And the king, thinking that the command of the Pitris should not be disobeyed, went ahunting, wishfully thinking of Girika alone who was gifted with great beauty and like unto another Sree (Laksmi) herself. And the season being spring, the woods within which the king was roaming, had become delightful like unto the garden of the king of the Gandharvas himself. There were Ashokas and Champakas, and Chutas and Atimuktas in abundance; and there were Punnagas and Karnikaras and Vakulas and Divya Patalas and Patalas and Narikelas and Chandanas and Arjunas and such other beautiful and sacred trees resplendant with fragrant flowers and tasteful fruits. And the whole forest was maddened by the sweet notes of the Kakila and echoed with the hum of the maddened bee. And the king became possessed with desire and he saw not his wife before him. Maddened by desire as he was roaming hither and thither, he saw a beautiful Ashoka decked with dense foliage and its branches covered with flowers. And the king sat at his ease in the shade of that tree. And excited by the fragrance of


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 which is little known, yet it is the most beautiful tribute to the horse ever phrased.

Tom's oldest rider gave a graphic history of the noble horse. Then, amid a hush that was broken only by the sobs of Tom's two drivers, the faithful steed was lowered into the Caribbean, where he sank to his long sleep.

But he was not the only animal to find a watery grave on that memorable trip, for the monkeys began having pneumonia shortly after they left New York, and it was a quiet day when they did not fling one or more of them into the Atlantic.

This opening storm on the night that old Tom died seemed to be a precursor of many stormy, nasty days. Each day they thought the weather would clear, but there finally developed a series of November gales so much feared by seamen. These were occasionally interspersed with Central American hurricanes, which, in spite of all the sailors could do, blew the ships far out of their course.


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 These hurricanes would lash up the water until it filled the air with flying spume, like yeast. It would be so thick that one could catch handfuls of it. Under such conditions the captain could only depend on his compass and allow the best he could for the wind and the strong undercurrents.

It was just the sort of weather to invite disaster, so it was no wonder that, one evening, when the captain had estimated that they were not far off the Colombian coast, that the ship on which Freckles and Dapples sailed, struck a reef and stuck fast. Then, as though in utter disdain of the powers of man, the clouds rolled away and the setting sun appeared, showing a low coast line about a mile away.

But if the clouds disappeared and the sun appeared, the winds did not abate. Instead, they piled up great billows that rolled constantly against the helpless ship, and ground the sharp-toothed reef deeper and deeper into her side.


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 Three of the four life-boats had been carried away the night before by a comber that they had experienced, when they could not guard against it. So the ship was left with but one boat, to add to its other misfortunes.

The captain soon decided that the vessel could not live until morning with the continual grinding on the reef, so the boat was lowered and the women and children were placed in it. It was not at all certain that it would ever reach the shore, but the attempt had to be made. At the suggestion of Mr. Williams, the circus riders led their mounts on to the lower deck, which was partly submerged with water, and jumped them over the rail in a brave attempt to swim with them to the shore. The shore was about a mile away, and almost any good horse will swim that distance.

Freckles and Dapples were among the last of the riders to take to the sea. Mr. Williams hated to see the boy and the


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 small horse fighting for their lives, but he finally saw that it was inevitable.

So he went with them to the lower deck and gave them his blessing.

"Don't try to ride him," said Mr. Williams. "It will make him too low in the water. Just lie in the water by his side, with your arm over his neck. You had better cling to his mane, so that you will not get separated from him.

"He is a brave little horse. He will give his last ounce of strength for you. I am sure you will reach the shore all right. When you get there, look for the others and all keep together. God only knows what sort of country it is yonder."

Mr. Williams stooped down and kissed the boy and gave him a big hug.

Then Freckles led Sir Wilton close to the rail, and, with a slap on his side, jumped him over. The little horse had barely struck the water when his young rider caught hold of his mane with a grip that nothing but death could break.


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 Dapples was bridled, and Freckles had noted carefully the direction of the shore, so he headed Dapples for it.

"Keep the ship at your back all the way, and you cannot go wrong," Mr. Williams had said. So Freckles occasionally looked back to see that the ship was behind them.

Until they got used to the surf and could rise and fall with it a bit, it nearly covered them. But presently Dapples struck his swimming stride. It seemed to Freckles that he merely walked through the water.

He did not pant as Freckles did, and he was not frightened.

So it is that a dog or a horse, when it finds itself in deep water, just walks naturally in it, and this makes them the best of swimmers.

For half an hour, and it seemed like a week to Freckles, Sir Wilton swam steadily. It was a terrible sensation for the boy, knowing that the sea beneath him was bottomless as far as he was concerned.


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 He was not at all sure that they would ever reach the shore, although Mr. Williams had said they would. Freckles wondered what it would feel like to drown. Would his chums at home know what had become of him?

Would he ever see Mr. Williams again? Many of the animals he knew were doomed.

As the minutes went by, Freckles saw to his great alarm that Dapples was swimming slower and slower. He was gettin tired. Would he hold out?

Freckles himself paddled away for dear life with his free arm, and also did some frantic kicking, but it did not seem to help very much.

At last it seemed to him that they were not moving at all. Then he discovered that Dapples was resting and merely keeping afloat. But finally he got his wind again, and they started slowly forward.

But the ship was getting smaller and


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 smaller, so surely they were making headway.

One minute Freckles was buoyant with hope, and then the next he was sure they would both sleep in the Caribbean sea with poor Tom Kennedy.

Finally, when despair of ever reaching the coast had clutched Freckles, although he knew it was not far distant, his foot touched something hard. He reached about frantically with it and discovered that he was standing on solid beach. Almost at the same instant Sir Wilton stood up on solid sand and began walking ashore.

They had reached the shore at a spot where the beach was very sloping, and this had saved them two hundred feet of swimming and perhaps their lives.

Eagerly and gratefully they waded ashore, and when they were once up on firm land, Sir Wilton shook himself, and then with a deep sigh lay down to rest.

Freckles knew by this that he was all in.


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 He had never seen him lie down to rest before. So he sat on the sand with the little horse's head in his lap, talking to him while he dozed and rested.

It was a strange and terrible night. The sea thundered at their backs, and the great forest before them was full of strange sounds.

Freckles knew not what the night would bring forth, yet he felt sure that since God had protected them from the sea He would keep them from this new danger, so he watched with Sir Wilton and was glad they were alive.


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O poor Freckles, sitting upon the sand of the beach, on the edge of a vast, dark, tropical forest, with the Southern Cross and the countless stars above him, and wild, weird sounds on every hand, this night was a night of terrors.

Mr. Williams had told him to find the others when he landed, and for all to keep together, but the rest had swam ashore nearly an hour before he had, as Mr. Williams wished Freckles and Dapples to stay on the ship if possible.

Freckles had not been able to guide Sir Wilton straight to the shore, and, as a result, he had landed in a small cove nearly a mile from the spot where a score of the


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 circus riders and their mounts were now sleeping on the sands.

So, to all intents and purposes, s, Freckles and Dapples were alone.

The boy realized, with a great sense of love in his heart, how much more alone he would have been without the little horse. He was as affectionate as a dog, and, although he could not express his love in as many ways as a dog could, yet he managed, by rubbing his nose against his master's cheek, and by caressing his face with his lips, to tell him that he loved him with all the devotion of his horse heart.

From time to time signal rockets went up from the ship, so Freckles knew that she had not yet sunk. He thought of Mr. Williams and all the rest who had stuck by the ship, and wondered vaguely if he would ever see them again.

Truly this life of the circus was a strange one, and his own had been even too full of thrills of late for his comfort.

The booming of the surf on the low


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 sandspit Freckles understood, but the great dark forest in front of him was filled with terrifying sounds which he did not understand.

He could see dimly that the trees were very large, so large in fact that he could not tell where one left off and another began. Their tops seemed to interlace like one great canopy. The undergrowth was also very thick, and one would have needed a hatchet to have penetrated very far in it. But the sounds from the unknown depths terrified him even more than its solemn vastness. Great bats as large as birds went zigzagging overhead. At first Freckles thought they were birds, but he finally decided they were bats. Strange birds screamed in the forest, and Freckles concluded these were parrots. The captain had told him the day before that the islands along shore were alive with parrots and cockatoos.

But the strangest of all the sounds was a continuous roaring of great volume and


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 awful persistence. This was produced by a colony of roaring monkeys, that were having a midnight carousal.

The jaguar was also out that night for prey. Several times Freckles heard his cry in the distance. Then, for a long time, he was still, but presently there was a terrific struggle in the underbrush within a hundred feet of them. The boy heard a pathetic bleating, and wondered what sort of animal had paid the price of being smaller and more defenseless than his fellow.

The jaguar had obtained his midnight supper. He had surprised a doe and her fawn, and had pulled the fawn down and killed it. It was a small South American deer, just the sort of supper for a hungry jaguar.

Later on, farther away in the woods, Freckles heard another death struggle.

This time a huge snake had reached down from an overhead branch where it was watching, and taken an ant-eater,


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 just another of the tragedies of the South American forest, which teems with life, and where the life-and-death struggle goes on ceaselessly.

It seemed to the weary, terrified boy that the daylight would never come. He felt sure, if the daylight did come, that these sounds of fights-to-the-death about him would cease, for it is in the night that most of the jungle-hunting is done.

At last, about daybreak, he fell asleep and dreamed he was back in the ring with Sir Wilton. For a wonder, Dapples was troubling him with his tricks. He continually got his signals mixed and did the wrong trick, which made the audience laugh. Freckles was so troubled about this that he awoke. He found the sun shining brightly. To his great joy he heard shouts along the shore not far distant. He answered, and started with all haste to make his way in the direction from which they had come.

In five minutes he had gained a small


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 beach where the score of circus people had slept during the long night. He was more delighted to see them than he had ever been to see any human beings before.

To their great joy they discovered that the ship from which they had fled the night before had not sunk after all. A sister ship was standing by, to which the passen* gers and animals were being transferred.

Two hours later a boat put off, and arrangements were made for bringing themarooned circus riders back to the ship.

Freckles sat in the stern of a life-boat, while Sir Wilton, supported by four lifepreservers, swam easily behind.

This score of riders were the most delighted beings that ever set foot upon a solid deck after braving the teeth of an angry sea for hours and sleeping on a lonely South American beach.

The following day the now too thoroughly crowded ship hailed a tramp steamer headed for Rio de Janeiro, which was her own destination. As the tramp


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 was returning with little cargo, some of the animals and circus people were transferred to her, and all went on their way rejoicing, feeling that they had escaped miraculously.

Arrived at Rio de Janeiro, the ninety gaudy circus cars were transferred, first to a ferry-boat, and then to one of the leading South American railroads. So two days after the big American show landed on South American soil they were once more bumping over the rails in the accustomed manner, showing every day or two. But the accommodations for exhibiting, and especially for feeding the circus, were not as good as in the United States, notwithstanding the fact that the advance agents and buyers had done everything possible.

Nor had the advertising been neglected. For weeks small South American urchins, of all degrees of blackness, from the swarthy Spaniard to the native, black as a coal, had been gaping open-mouthed at


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 the circus posters which informed them in glowing Spanish all about the big show. Nor were the children the only ones who gazed spellbound at the posters, for many of the South Americans of mixed blood are little more than children in the ways of the world and its wonders. So it was a very easily pleased audience before which the circus played. The only thing that they had ever witnessed that approached the circus in any degree was the Spanish bull-fight.

A lot of the circus people went to a bull-fight one Sunday, when the president and some of the other high Brazilian officials were present.

Now the circus people as a class are very devoted animal-lovers, and they denounced the bull-fight among themselves as a bloody spectacle belonging more to the dark ages than to the present enlightened century. One bull-fight was enough for most of them, so they rarely patronized the Sunday shows after that first day.


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 When Freckles and Dapples rode about the South American cities and towns between performances they were always followed by a crowd of squalid children, nearly all of whom asked for American money. This constant begging greatly disgusted Freckles, who had been brought up with much of the New England thrift.

It was while playing in the great city of Buenos Aires that an accident befell Sir Wilton that changed the lives of both the Shetland and his driver, although its farreaching scope did not at first appear.

Perhaps the most popular of the small horse's stunts was his trapeze act. The trapeze was a platform about six feet long and three feet wide. He ascended it by a set of steps, which were afterwards removed. When he was in position on the trapeze Freckles would start it swinging gently. This movement the Shetland would accelerate by swaying his body and shifting his weight from his hind legs to his fore legs. When the trapeze was


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 swinging sufficiently, the pony would make the spring to a standard or pedestal which was about three feet away. Then he would turn about and make a bow to the audience and make ready for the spring back. Again some one had to set the trapeze swinging until it would swing close enough to the standard for the return jump.

Although the trick was seemingly perfectly safe, and Sir Wilton had made it several hundred times since coming into the circus life, and also in England, yet he misjudged the distance for once and came to grief. No one knew how it happened. Perhaps something in the audience distracted his attention. The only thing they knew was that it happened.

Instead of waiting until the trapeze had swung to the end of its arc, and then springing as it receded, Dapples jumped too quickly, and his fore-leg was caught between the swinging trapeze and the edge of the standard, and broken.


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 Freckles was by his side in a moment, trembling with fear and excitement.

Half a dozen circus hands were at once ealled. The favorite of the children had to be carried bodily from the ring, while Spanish children wept at the sight.

The veterinary, who always travels with the circus, inspected Sir Wilton's injury and then shook his head. To poor Freckles this shake of the head meant disaster. His first thought was that Dapples would have to be shot. But the veterinary, seeing his pale face, hastened to reassure him.

"Oh, no, son; it isn't as bad as that. We can mend him, but it will take a long time. He will have to be slung up for several weeks, and the leg will have to be in splints and perhaps a plaster cast. It means no more showing for you two for the rest of this South American trip. If there is a mix-up, you two seem to get into it."

Freckles hung upon the veterinarian's every movement as he arranged a swing


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 for the small horse. They finally made a portable frame for the swing, so that Dapples could be shipped in it when the time should come.

After spending the better part of the night over Sir Wilton, the veterinary said good-bye to him and to Freckles, and started after the circus, which had already departed.

So, for the second time, the chums were left behind, while the circus rattled on its way.

Freckles spent most of his time with Sir Wilton, talking to him, or reading quietly in the shade of a large tree which stood near the stable. Freckles himself boarded at a hotel, but he had little heart to explore the town. He and Dapples had explored so many cities together that it seemed wrong for him to go alone as long as his little horse friend could not go. Thus a tedious month dragged by.

Although it was winter, yet Freckles thought it very hot. He did not much


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 like the South American cities, because they were not clean, and also because he could not understand Spanish.

One day, when he had become discouraged with his and Dapples's lot, and wondered how much longer they would be kept there, he received a telegram from Mr. Bingham, requesting him to come to the city where they were to show the next day. The telegram concluded, "I have a proposition to make to you. Come at once."

Little dreaming of the surprise the circus owner had in store for Sir Wilton and himself, Freckles went, and it was from Mr. Bingham's lips that he heard the proposal that changed all the rest of Dapples's life, and his own as well.


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HE good ship Rio de Janeiro was ploughing her way vigorously through the blue Caribbean. A brisk wind on her stern was making the swell in her wake even more pronounced. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining gloriously, and a myriad of sparkling diamonds and rainbow shapes trailed in the wake of the ship. The sky was perfect, and the whole scene seemed to Freckles to express gladness, as he sat on the hurricane deck reading an interesting book which Mr. Bingham had given him.

The Rio de Janeiro was not a circus ship, but a cattle boat. On her lower decks were nearly two thousand head of beef cattle on their way to the great markets of the United States. Just at pres-


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 ent they were rather still, but at certain times of day, especially at morning and evening, their bellowing came up to the hurricane deck in an almost constant sound.

The fresh wind kept the smell of bilgewater away from the upper decks. Although the ship was a cattle boat, yet she carried about fifty passengers. She was equipped with a generous set of well-appointed cabins and a dining-saloon and all the other comforts. This was to accommodate South American merchants, who wished to make trips to the United States between the sailing times of the regular passenger boats.

Freckles looked very happy as he sat on the deck reading his book, but his mind did not seem to be wholly on what he was reading, for he occasionally smiled and looked as though he was journeying in dreamland, as indeed he was.

He was going back home, and without the rest of the circus, all of which had


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 come about because of his trip to see Mr. Bingham in answer to that gentleman's urgent telegram. Freckles had really gone to that interview with considerable foreboding. What did Mr. Bingham want of him? So many things had happened to himself and Dapples since they had been with the circus that he was almost afraid. Mr. Bingham had always been very good, but perhaps he thought him a hoodoo and was going to fire him, and give his job of showing Sir Wilton to another boy who was more fortunate.

Such thoughts as these were racing wildly through Freckles's mind when he at last appeared at Mr. Bingham's office, which was nothing more than a small tent on the circus lot. Mr. Bingham greeted him cordially, but then he had always been cordial.

"Well, my boy, how are you?" asked the magnate, after he had finished looking over some papers upon which he was engaged.


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 "Fine!" returned Freckles.

"And the little horse?"

"He is fine also, but he is still in the sling. Sometimes I am afraid his leg will never mend."

"Oh, yes, it will," returned the circus owner confidently; "but I am afraid myself it will take some time. That was why I sent for you."

Here Freckles's heart began to pound so vigorously that he was afraid Mr. Bingham would hear it. Mr. Bingham's next words confirmed his worst fears, and actually made him turn pale and his hands tremble.

"I have been thinking," said Mr. Bingham reflectively, "that perhaps you ought to retire from the circus. You seem to be rather unlucky."

It was just as he had imagined. Mr. Bingham thought him a hoodoo. He was going to fire him and give his job of driving Sir Wilton to a luckier boy. The thing that he loved the most of anything


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 in the whole world was to be taken away from him. Tears filled his eyes.

"Oh, Mr. Bingham, Mr. Bingham," he almost sobbed. "Don't fire me. I know I have been unlucky, but I am sure we will have better luck in the future. Sir Wilton is the only thing that I have in the whole world, and I haven't really got him, but I can't bear to leave him. I will work for less money, I will work for nothing, if you will only let me stay with him."

Mr. Bingham had reached over and clasped Freckles's hand warmly.

"Don't worry, boy. I haven't any notion of parting you and Sir Wilton, not an idea of it. I was just thinking of something else."

At this announcement Freckles's heart gave a great bound of gladness. So he was not to lose Sir Wilton. Perhaps it would be a pleasant trip to see Mr. Bingham after all.

"I have been thinking," said Mr. Bingham. Then he stopped and looked hard


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 at Freckles, and a merry twinkle came into his eye.

"I have been thinking," continued Mr. Bingham, "that you and Sir Wilton have earned me a good deal of money in the past year and a half—probably much more than I paid for him originally. You have been faithful, and you love him. Both Mr. Williams and Big Bill say they never saw such a love between a boy and a pony."

"¥es," interrupted Freckles, "I think as much of him as though he was my brother, and he loves me more than any one else in the world. Him and me is pals, Mr. Bingham."

"Yes, I see," said Mr. Bingham reflectively. He took up a cigar and bit off the end of it and lighted it. "Yes, I see," he said.

Freckles waited in breathless suspense for his next words.

"What I have been thinking is this," continued Mr. Bingham. "This last ac-


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 cident may give Sir Wilton a crooked fore-leg. It will not hurt him at all for a phaeton or saddle pony, but it rather takes the gilt off him for the ring, so I have been thinking that perhaps I ought to retire: both you and him—put you out to pasture, so to speak."

"What, him and me not to show any more?" cried Freckles, his fears returning in spite of himself.

"Yes, something of the sort," returned the owner deliberately.

Freckles had braced himself for what Mr. Bingham might have to say next, but, even so, he had not been prepared for the manager's proposition, which left him speechless and finally sent him sobbing into the manager's arms.

"Well," said Mr. Bingham, "I have decided, since you and Dapples think so much of each other, to give him to you and to send you both home to the United States. I think that would be a better life for you anyway. What do you say, boy?"


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 For several seconds Freckles sat staring at the circus magnate, fearing that he had not heard aright; but by degrees the meaning of Mr. Bingham's words sank into his dazed mind. With the impulse of boyhood he fell upon his knees before the astonished Mr. Bingham and, burying his face in the manager's lap, began crying for joy.

"God bless my soul!" cried the astonished man. "Why, why, boy, I didn't think you cared so much as this, or I would have sprung it on you by degrees. I was really sort of working up to it, too. Didn't you smell a rat? Didn't you know what I was driving at?"

"Oh, no, no; I never dreamed of anything so beautiful and wonderful in my whole life. Why, Mr. Bingham, I have been praying to God every night that I might earn money enough to some day buy him. I have been saving up every cent for a year. Why, I haven't bought an ice-cream for months."


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 "Been a-saving up for that very purpose, have you? Well, you won't have to save up any more. Perhaps God heard your prayers and made me give him to you, or perhaps your Uncle Bingham heard about the horse fund. Well, it doesn't matter," he continued, rubbing his fat hands together happily. "The little horse is yours from this minute. Not only that, but I have engaged passage on the Rio de Janeiro for both you and Sir Wilton in two weeks. I am going to send 'you back right. I shall pay the passage money myself, and I am going to set you two up in business in the United States. Trust me to do a thing right when I do it at all."

Freckles had tried to thank Mr. Bingham, but it seemed to him now, as he sat on the hurricane deck of the steamer which was ploughing her way rapidly toward home, that his words had been all insufficient. He had stammered and blubbered and made a sorry mess of it, but he felt


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 in some way that Mr. Bingham understood.

At this point in his reflections he closed his book, which he had not really been reading, and went down on to the second deck to see Sir Wilton and to tell him all about their plans once more. He had rehearsed them every day since they had sailed, but he got a great comfort from telling the Shetland over and over of how happy they were going to be, and of the wonderful life ahead.

He found Dapples in a nice small boxstall which had been fitted up especially for him. He was well bedded and had every comfort of a home stable. It was good to see him so finely provided for.

"Hello, little horse. Hello, Dapples," cried Freckles, putting his arm over the Shetland's neck and laying his face close to that of his pal. "We are going home, Dapples. Home, home, home, home. I have never had a home before, but I am going to have one now. We will both


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 have a fine home, and we will be the happiest folks in the whole world."

Freckles always thought of Dapples as folks.

"Mr. Bingham has done everything for us. All we have got to do is just to work a little and enjoy ourselves all the rest of our lives."

At this point in the confidence Sir Wilton bethought him of sugar, and, thrusting his nose into Freckles's pocket, obtained the coveted lump.

"Dapples, our home is going to be in a little town in the Adirondacks where Mr. Bingham lived when he was a boy. Every one knows Mr. Bingham there. When they know he is our friend they will be mighty good to us. He says so."

Dapples nodded his head in assent. This was the way he always said Yes in the ring.

"Mr. Bingham's friend, Mr. Ellery, keeps a store and hotel in the town. He brings the mail from the depot to the town


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 three times a day. He also brings passengers up to the town each day. You and I, Dapples, are going to live with him, and we are going to carry the mail and passengers, when there are any. Also perhaps we will deliver some groceries when they are rushed. It won't be hard work, Dapples, and I know you will like it."

Sir Wilton again nodded his head in assent.

"You dear little chum. How you always seem to understand everything that I say to you. You are the wisest horse in the whole world."

Here Dapples again nodded in assent, and this made Freckles laugh at his expense.

In some strange psychological way the Shetland knew that Freckles was laughing at him, so he put down his head and looked very sheepish. But Freckles brought the pony's face close to his own again, and concluded the interview.

"There is one thing, Dapples, that you