Leo the Circus Boy: or, Life under the great white canvas. Stratemeyer Edward

warrant it is no harder than life on the Hawkins’ farm, sir.”

      “It’s not as rosy as it looks from a seat outside of the oval.”

      “I know that. But I am willing to put up with the roughness just for the chance to make something of myself,” returned Leo.

      Adam Lambert thought for a moment.

      “Come with me into the ring,” he said.

      Leo followed him gladly.

      The rings, two in number, were empty, and so were the hundreds of seats, making the tent look vast and gloomy.

      “Now show me what you can do.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      Off came Leo’s coat vest, and shoes. Then followed a number of handsprings, forward, backward, and sideways, and somersaults and curious attitudes.

      “Can I use that bar up there?”

      “Certainly, but there is no rope to get to it.”

      “Never mind, sir.”

      As he spoke Leo ran to the centerpole, and up this he went like a flash.

      Then he gave a sudden leap and sat down on the bar several yards off.

      “By Jove, there is something in that boy!” murmured Adam Lambert to Reeve. “He has just daring enough to succeed.”

      “So I would say, Mr. Lambert. Hullo! Look there!”

      Leo was turning rapidly on the bar.

      He went through a dozen gymnastic movements, and then slid down the center pole.

      “That will do,” shouted the manager. “I’ll give you a trial. You can place yourself under Dick Pomeroy, the head tumbler and bar man. Mr. Reeve, take him to Dick.”

      Adam Lambert had scarcely spoken when a tall, finely-built fellow rushed into the ring from one of the dressing-rooms.

      “Mr. Lambert!”

      “Well, Dick.”

      “Broxton is intoxicated again!”

      “Indeed! Didn’t you warn him as I told you?”

      “Yes, but it did no good. He is so intoxicated he can’t stand.”

      “Then he can’t do his brother clown act with Snipper?”

      “No, sir, we’ll have to cut it out.”

      “Too bad, with Nash on the sick list, too.”

      “See here,” put in Barton Reeve. “This boy wanted to do clown as well as acrobatics.”

      “Is that so, Dunbar?”

      “Yes, sir, if I can help you out I’ll do my best.”

      “It’s short notice,” mused Adam Lambert.

      “Snipper can instruct him and cut out anything difficult,” suggested Barton Reeve.

      He had taken a strong liking to Leo and wished to get the boy a place.

      “Well, fix it up, Dick, the best you can,” said the manager. “I must go back and see about those stolen tickets.”

      And off went the manager, followed a minute later by Barton Reeve, leaving Leo alone with Dick Pomeroy, who had charge of the clowns and tumblers connected with the “Greatest Show on Earth.”

      Pomeroy at once led Leo around to a dressing-room. In a corner sat Jack Snipper, a clown and gymnast, his face drawn down.

      “Here’s a man to take Broxton’s place,” explained Pomeroy.

      “Why, he’s a boy!” exclaimed Snipper.

      “Never mind, you must drill him in the best you can.”

      “Can he do anything on the bar?”

      “I reckon so.”

      “I don’t like this drilling in new fellows every couple of weeks,” growled Snipper, who was not a man of cheerful disposition.

      As a matter of fact, he was what is commonly called a crank, and very jealous of his reputation.

      He told Leo where he could obtain a pair of tights and a clown’s outfit, and made up the boy’s face for him.

      Then he gave Leo a long lesson.

      The two were to do a clown act, and then, while on the bars, throw off their clown dresses, and go in for a brothers’ gymnastic act.

      Leo worked hard, and by the time the circus commenced he was ready to go on, although it must be admitted he was extremely nervous.

      The grand entrée was the first thing on the programme. It included the rulers of all nations, savage tribes, elephants, camels, chariots, and a hundred and one other things impossible to mention.

      “Come on now!” suddenly said Snipper, and then he and Leo ran out into the ring and fell down and bounced up as if they were a couple of rubber balls.

      “Ho! ho! look at those two clowns!” shouted the crowd.

      The tumble over, the clowns chased each other around the ring, knocked each other down, and did a dozen other funny things.

      While the two clowns were cutting their capers a young lady bareback rider rode into the ring.

      Her name was Natalie Sparks, but she was known on the bills as Natalie the Fire Queen.

      Her great act was to dive through numerous hoops of fire while on horseback.

      As she began to perform, Leo commenced to climb the centerpole of the tent, doing so in a way that nearly choked the crowd with laughter.

      “See him twisting like a monkey!”

      “He ain’t a clown at all! See, he is throwing off his clown dress!”

      “Now he is dressed in tights!”

      It was true. Leo was in full gymnastic costume and was swinging gracefully from the high bar.

      As Leo began to do his best on the bar, Natalie the Fire Queen started to leap through rings of fire held up by several ringmen.

      The performances of the young gymnast and the Fire Queen were in full swing when a cry of horror arose.

      In some unaccountable manner the fire from the hoops had communicated to the tarred ropes running up by the centerpole to the roof.

      The great canvas had taken fire in several places.

      Before Leo could realize what had happened a cloud of smoke seemed to envelop him.

      The fire had reached the ropes supporting the very bar upon which he was performing!

      His escape in that direction was cut off, and the distance to the ring below was fully half a hundred feet!

      CHAPTER V. – A LEAP OF GREAT PERIL

      Leo fully understood his great peril.

      The entire canvas above him was in flames, and in a very short while the ropes which supported the bar upon which he had been performing would be burned through.

      And then? Leo hardly dared to think of the consequences. The sawdust ring below seemed a terrible distance away.

      A leap to it would mean broken limbs, perhaps death.

      A panic arose among the audience.

      “He can’t escape!”

      “He must fall or jump!”

      A rope and a net were sent for, but long before they arrived Leo had made a move to save himself.

      The smoke rolled around him a second time.

      It was fearfully thick, and made him close his mouth and eyes for fear of being either blinded or suffocated.

      As the smoke swept back in another direction there was a snap above.

      One of the ropes