A battered silk hat that had seen his father through a campaign for district attorney a number of years before rested on his ears, causing them to protrude unnaturally, while a full-dress coat with pointed tails that just cleared the floor gave him a quadrupedal appearance. This coat was the wearer's conception of sartorial perfection, having been cut out by his own hands from an old raincoat of his father's. A pair of painter's overalls with a hectic past completed his costume.

And while the audience gazed with interest at the ringmaster, the ringmaster was gazing with equal interest at the audience. He was trying to make himself think that the circus was solely responsible for the gala dress that confronted him, although his better judgment should have told him that most of those present were thus gayly clad for Cottontop Sigsbee's party that was to take place at the conclusion of the performance.

After cracking the whip a few times to show how skillfully it could be done, the ringmaster proceeded to deliver a highly entertaining lecture prepared by himself in collaboration with one Job, and to assure his hearers that his show possessed the only "genuine blood-sweatin' behemoth of Holy Writ now in captivity, regardluss of the claims of jealous compet'ors exackly as advertised."

As he gave a preliminary shake of the drop-curtain the anticipations of the audience ran high, for they distinctly smelled something suggestive of the odor of wild animals; but alas, it was only a faint reminiscence from the curtain. After one or two false starts the ringmaster drew back the curtain.

"Behold now behemoth, ladies and gent'mun!" he cried with a sweeping gesture of the hand toward the center of the stage.

With a craning of necks and a straining of eyes the audience beheld a quadruped about the size of Sport and the color of stove-blacking, manacled by a huge log-chain to a Nubian animal trainer who bore a striking resemblance to Gizzard Tobin, although bereft of all clothing save a pair of swimming trunks and a sparse coating of black.

The murmur of disapproval that greeted this tableau was quickly quelled by the ringmaster, as he brought the curtains together and began to declaim in a loud voice:

"Not so pre-vious, ladies and gent'mun! Not so pre-vious, I beg of you! The best is yet to come! You have not seen this wonderful Biblic animal p'form!... Why, ladies and gent'mun, he sweats blood! Bl-l-l-l-ud!... Real,—rich,—red,—human bl-l-l-ud!... Each and every person present is untitled to see him sweat bl-l-l-ud, or money refunded, exackly as advertised!"

Then the ringmaster poked his head between the curtains and said in a desperate whisper quite as audible on one side of the curtain as the other: "Hurry up, Giz! I can't keep this up all night!" and turning to the audience resumed, "Yes, ladies and gent'mun, he sweats bl-l-lud; and Job, this wond'ful blood-sweatin' creature's trainer, is now gettin' his blood ready for him. For, ladies and gent'mun, he does act'ally sweat bl-l-lud! Real,—rich,—red,—human,—bl-l-l-lud! The same as you one and all have got in your insides, exackly as advertised—"

Three distinct raps were heard. Again Sube drew back the redolent curtain and to all appearances the dog-like behemoth was sweating blood profusely. He was completely inundated with a bright red liquid which dripped and trickled down on the floor in numerous gory puddles.

For an instant the audience was spellbound. Sube was enough of a showman to realize this; but he was not enough of a showman to draw the curtain before the spell could be broken. Intoxicated with success, he attempted to prolong the supreme moment to the uttermost. And thus came disaster. For this particular behemoth was new at the blood-sweating business. In fact, he had no idea that he was sweating blood. He knew only that he was saturated with a chilling liquid, and he did the customary thing: he shook himself thoroughly.

For an instant there was an ominous silence, during which fresh white dresses with socks to match suddenly acquired numberless polka dots, while multitudes of crimson freckles appeared on hitherto unblemished cheeks and arms and legs; and Biscuit Westfall's new white sailor suit, purchased especially for the party, broke out with more red pimples than a bad case of chicken-pox. Nobody was spared. But those in the rear were only sprinkled, while those in the front row were deluged.

Expectorations, expostulations and lamentations followed in order. Then came the most dreaded of all showman's disasters, the ghastly rush for the exits.

Fortunately the stairway was large and the audience was small. There was no choking of the aisles. Nobody was trampled underfoot. Not a single casualty occurred, although Sport had a narrow escape. For, as the howling mob was rushing out of the big barn-door, he came flying down the stairs astride his long tail, followed by numerous missiles and epithets forcefully hurled after him by unseen persons in the loft.

Sube came to a hasty conclusion that Cottontop's party was no place for him, and went into hiding for the rest of the afternoon. Annie called him until she was hoarse, but there was no response. And when she tried to enlist Sport's aid in finding his master the long-suffering creature refused to be lured from his kennel, but spent the remainder of the day licking at the unpalatable mixture of stove-blacking and raspberry juice with a sullen expression that seemed to indicate that even among dogs patience sometimes ceases to be a virtue.

On the whole it was an ignominious ending for Sube's moment of triumph. It threatened to crush his three-ring ambitions; but two weeks later when the special train of Baylum and Barney's Greatest Show on Earth came thundering into town an hour before daybreak, the first person on hand to welcome and assist was none other than Sube Cane.

In spite of the interference of several officious roustabouts Sube succeeded in superintending the unloading of the blood-sweating behemoth's cage, and personally conducted it to the Fair Grounds. When the tarpaulin was removed it was discovered that the cage had been so badly damaged in transit that immediate repairs were necessary.

Arrangements were accordingly made to transfer the behemoth to another cage; and while the roustabouts were still something of a hindrance to the youthful superintendent, matters progressed smoothly until Sport appeared on the scene, fawning humbly and wagging his tail with obsequious joy at the sight of his master.

Sube had placed the dog in solitary confinement before leaving home for the express purpose of preventing his attendance at the circus, and he was greatly annoyed at this display of presumption. He intimated as much in a gruff undertone followed by the vicious throwing of several imaginary rocks. Sport retired with a deeply injured air, and was soon lost to sight in the crowd.

But just as the huge hulk of the blood-sweating behemoth was passing from one cage to the other the faithful animal came back and made a heroic effort to save his master's life by attempting to attack the hideous beast through the bars of the temporary fence by which it was confined.

The unexpectedness of the onslaught caused the behemoth to shy so violently from its assailant that it knocked down the fence on the farther side of the lane through which it was being urged, and suddenly found itself free and unfettered. Meanwhile Sport was pressing his attack with great vocal enthusiasm, and was showing signs of closing in on his quarry. He abandoned this idea, however, when the behemoth turned and made a counter-charge. It was then that a parade not on the program took place.

It was led by Sport, at a pace totally at variance with the ordinary formal circus-wagon parade, for Sport was capable of much more speed than his years and his rheumatism would have induced one to believe. In fact, the only thing that prevented him from making a world's record was his tail, which kept getting tangled up with his front legs.

A short distance behind Sport came the behemoth, lumbering, careening and snorting, but making very rapid progress. Then after a long blank space came Sube the Showman, on a bicycle he had commandeered for the occasion, pressed to the utmost to maintain the pace set by the leaders. Not far behind Sube came a motley crowd of blasphemous circus-hands and howling urchins. The rear guard was made up of the more mature onlookers whose curiosity was mightier than their caution.

The parade proceeded by the most direct route to Canes' barn, the First Section arriving only a few feet in advance of the Second. Nor did the First Section tarry long in the barn; but hurled itself through a small hole in the rear wall that led into its kennel—and there it fell exhausted. The Second Section brought up with a loud snort in an abandoned horse stall, and stood puffing and wheezing and wondering what to do next, when the Third Section arrived and by almost superhuman efforts managed to close the big barn-door all but a few inches.

The Third Section was peering so intently through the crack of the door in an effort to see whether the Second Section was sweating blood exackly as advertised, that it failed to note the coming of a rubber-tired runabout drawn by a team of milk-white Arabians, until the red-faced individual in charge of the conveyance exploded:

"Well—I'll—be—blowed!"

Sube quickly turned around, and recognizing at a glance that the man belonged with the circus, cried exultantly:

"I've got 'im!"

"So I should judge," replied the man, smiling broadly.

At this moment the broken ranks of the Fourth Section began to arrive, badly winded but still swearing magnificently.

"What do you know about that, boys!" shouted the red-faced individual, pointing with his milk-white whip at a poster on the barn-door.

It was a relic of Sube's circus.

OnLY GenUWiNe BLooD SweATTiNg
BoHemuTH oF HoLy WRiT iN
cAPiTiVity ADmiSion 5sTc
1o MArbLeS oR 20 PiNs

"Did you capture him yourself?" asked the red-faced individual as he clambered heavily from the runabout.

"Yes, sir."

"May I see him?"

Sube's assurance fled. His bashful reply was almost inaudible. "Yes, sir," he mumbled.

"Five cents, I suppose," said the showman loudly as he pressed an unexpected nickel into Sube's hand and peered into the barn.

Sube backed away a few steps and stood picking at the nickel with his thumbnail when the showman turned from the door and said to the circus hands:

"He's in there all right. Go after him!" Then placing a large red hand on Sube's shoulder he added, "Young man, my name's Barney. I've been in the show business a good many years. But when you get ready to take your show on the road, I'll get ready to retire. You've got me skinned a mile!"

Supposing that this was some sort of a doubtful compliment Sube hung his head. He rubbed his lips with the back of his hand. He bored his heel into the earth. A sudden feeling of aversion for the loud-mouthed showman and his cursing assistants swept over him. He decided to abandon his career as a showman. And without raising his eyes he said:

"I ain't goin' int' the show business. I'm goin' to be a lawyer."