For one instant, Mrs. Burke and her friends stood paralyzed with horror; and then like the good mothers in Israel that they were, each jumped to the rescue of her own particular darling--that is, as soon as she could identify him. Consternation reigned supreme. Mrs. Cooley caught the Bearded Lady by the arm and shook him fiercely, just as he was about to land an uppercut on the jaw of the King of the Cannibal Islands. Mrs. Burns found her offspring, the Fat Man, lying dispossessed on his back in the gutter, while Sime Wilkins, the Man Who Ate Glass, sat comfortably on his stomach. Sime immediately apologized to Mrs. Burns and disappeared. Next, Mrs. Perkins took the Snake Charmer by his collar, and rapped him soundly with the piece of garden hose which she captured as he was using it to chastise the predatory Wild Man from Borneo. Other members of the company received equally unlooked-for censure of their dramatic efforts. Nickey, meantime, had fled to the pump behind the church, where he made his ablutions as best he could; then, seeing the vestry room door ajar, he, in his extremity, bolted for the quiet seclusion of the sanctuary. To his surprise and horror, he found Maxwell seated at a table looking over the parish records; and when Nickey appeared, still rather blue, attired in short red trunks, otherwise unadorned, Donald gazed at him in mute astonishment. For one moment there was silence as they eyed each other; and then Maxwell burst into roars of uncontrollable laughter, which were not quite subdued as Nickey gave a rather incoherent account of the misfortune which had brought him to such a predicament. "So you were the Tattooed Man, were you! Well, I suppose you know that it's not generally customary to appear in church in red tights; but as you couldn't help it, I shall have to see what can be done for you, to get you home clothed and in your right mind. I'll tell you! You can put on one of the choir boy's cassocks, and skip home the back way. If anybody stops you tell them you were practising for the choir, and it will be all right. But really, Nickey, if I were in your place, the next time I posed as a mounted Tattooed Man, I'd be careful to choose some old quadruped that couldn't run away with you!" "Then you aren't mad at me!" "Certainly not. I'll leave that to my betters! You just get home as fast as you can." "Gee! but you're white all right--you know it didn't say nothing in the book, about what kind of paint to use!" Maxwell's eyes opened. "What book are you talking about, Nickey?" he asked. "The one you let me take, with the Indians in it." Maxwell had to laugh again. "So that's where the idea for this 'Carnival of Wild West Sports' originated, eh?" "Yes, sir," Nickey nodded. "Everybody wanted to be the tattooed man, but seeing as I had the book, and old Charley was my horse, I couldn't see any good reason why I shouldn't get tattooed. Gee! I'll bet ma will be mad!"