“I’m tired to-night,” thought Jack. “I don’t feel just like myself. Guess I must be getting homesick. Oh, but I would like to see dad and mom again! I wish I was back in Westville, even if the professor would have me arrested. Well, here goes for the last turn, and then I’m going to bed and sleep.” There was some delay in getting his platform over to the far side of the tent, where he was to make his last jump, and it was almost time for the final races when it was in position. Jack climbed up, and his airship was hoisted up to him. He did his customary song and dance, and then prepared to give his exhibition of flying. Yet in spite of the confidence that had come back to him when he found that he had done the trick three times successfully, he felt his nervousness returning. “I guess I’d better take a tonic,” he told himself. “Well, here goes.” He leaped forward, grasping the handle of the big umbrella that extended down through the distended bag. He expected to feel himself buoyed up as usual by the big Japanese affair, but as his feet began to work the pedals controlling the wings, and as he got ready to pull the strings to fire the shot and display the flags and rooster, he realized that something was wrong. The umbrella was not holding him up. In fact, he was falling swiftly to the ground. The crowd not understanding that something was wrong, began to laugh as it always did, but there was terror in Jack’s heart. Suddenly there was a ripping sound, and the big umbrella turned inside out. Jack fell rapidly and heavily toward the earth, having no support to break his terrific fall. As he landed, his hand unconsciously pulled the strings and the shot was fired, the flags fluttered out, and the rooster crowed. The crowd yelled and applauded, but poor Jack felt a pain in his left leg as if some one had run a red-hot iron into it. Then it seemed as if some one had hit him on the head with a club. The lights, high up on the tent poles, died away. All became black, and Jack knew nothing more. CHAPTER XXV LEFT BEHIND--CONCLUSION When Jack regained his senses he found himself in a soft bed, and, as his eyes roved about they did not encounter the familiar hangings of the circus sleeping-car. Instead, they saw a room neatly papered, and at a window hung with white curtains sat a young lady. Jack stirred uneasily. Perhaps he was dreaming. The woman at the window heard him, and came over to the bed. “So you’re awake, are you?” she asked pleasantly. “How do you feel?” “Rather--sore--and--stiff,” replied Jack slowly. “What’s--the--matter--with--my leg?” “Oh, nothing much. It’s broken, that’s all; but the doctor says it’s a clean break. You’ll soon be better.” “My--head----” “Yes, you got quite a bad blow on the head, and you’ve been unconscious for several hours, but it’s nothing serious.” “Unconscious for several hours?” repeated Jack more quickly. “Where’s the circus?” “It’s gone on.” “Gone on? And--left--me--behind?”