He raised his right paw and delivered a telling blow on Spot’s body

Buster through the corner of his eyes noticed the restless, threatening motions of the two. Boar the Hound ran around, barking vigorously, but made no attempt to take any part in the fight. The Old Lion, who was too sleepy and indolent even to roar, sat apart as if he was to be the judge of the contest.

Chiquita, who was slightly wounded, cowered back of her defender, unable to get her whip or to make her voice heard. A thousand spectators outside watched with horrified eyes the combat. Attendants were running around with long poles and irons to prod the animals back to their corners, but they were so excited they did little good.

Suddenly Spot the Leopard took advantage of a moment when Buster was watching Ocelot the Jungle Cat. He sprang at his enemy like an arrow from a bow. At the same instant Ocelot closed in, and Timber the Wolf watched for his opportunity.

But Buster hadn’t been taken off his guard. He had kept one eye on Spot, and when he shot through the air that powerful right paw of his was raised again. It caught Spot in mid-air. It was no gentle blow this time. It was delivered with all the force that lay behind those powerful shoulder muscles.

It landed on Spot’s body with such a thud that it could be heard in every corner of the great circus. The Leopard was hurled back against the iron bars with such force that it seemed for a moment as if they would give way. Spot grunted, and dropped to the floor in such a dazed state of mind that he couldn’t think or act.

Buster having delivered this knock-out blow turned swiftly to Ocelot, whose claws had sunk into his shaggy leg. The huge paw came down on Ocelot’s head and nearly crushed the skull. He dropped his hold and lay down as if suddenly struck by lightning.

Buster, smarting with the pain in his leg, growled in rage, and turned to Timber the Wolf. Now Timber was naturally a coward. The punishment meted out to Spot and Ocelot immediately caused him to change his mind. He ran around the cage as Buster started in pursuit.

A temper, once it gets beyond control, is a terrible thing to have. It may lead into all sorts of trouble. Buster by this time had lost his completely. He was so enraged that he wanted to kill everything in the cage. His eyes grew blood-shot and terrible to look at.

He lunged at Timber, and missed him, but the Old Lion happened to be in the way. Buster gave him a side cuff that made him roar with pain. It was a glancing blow. If Old Lion hadn’t been so old that most of his teeth were gone he would have struck back, and Buster would have been in a peck of trouble. He didn’t know much about lions in those days.

The next animal that got in his way was Boar the Hound, which he sent whimpering across the cage. Then he came to Spot, who was just recovering his senses, and with an angry snarl hit him again and stood before him like a cat over a mouse as if defying him to run or strike back.

Round and round the cage Buster pursued the animals, striking right and left, and tumbling them all in a heap whenever he got within striking distance. Ocelot climbed to the top of the iron bars and crouched there in shivering terror.

Timber the Wolf leaped and jumped over the backs of the others, and thus escaped serious injury. It was a mix-up that threatened to end in a terrible tragedy. Buster was master of the situation, and so enraged that he continually saw red. The pandemonium outside, and the quickly thrusting sticks and irons of the attendants, had no effect on his temper. He ignored the noise, and merely snapped and snarled at the sharp irons every time they got in his way.

Then Chiquita, who had been cowering in her corner in fright, suddenly regained control of her nerves. She picked up her whip, but did not use it. Instead she walked calmly up to the enraged bear, and said sharply:

“Buster! Buster!”

Buster stopped short as if pricked by a needle. When his name was repeated in that soft voice, he closed his dripping jaws and ceased growling.

“Buster, come here!” added Chiquita.

It was a soft, soothing command, and it fell on Buster’s excited nerves like cooling balm. He looked at Chiquita, and then without so much as a grunt waddled toward her.

What followed made every one in the vast audience gasp. Chiquita, ignoring her danger, suddenly put her two arms around Buster’s neck, and actually wept on his shaggy breast.

“Buster, you saved my life,” she said gently. “Spot would surely have killed me if you hadn’t come to my help. You dear old Buster!”

Buster’s emotions cannot be described. All his rage suddenly vanished. He put a paw on Chiquita’s shoulders, and then fearful of hurting her, dropped it to his side.

She raised her head from his breast, and added: “Now come with me. Take me outside.”And leading Buster she walked across the cage, opened the door and stepped out. Buster meekly followed. Outside she led him by a paw across the arena, and faced the great audience. “You have seen what happened,” she said in a clear voice. “Can you wonder that I love Buster the Bear?”

The audience went wild, shouting and waving to them, and Buster was so confused he hardly knew what to do. In the next story Buster becomes a famous trick bear.