That satisfied Jimmy for a while, and he trudged on, not noticing that the crowd was thinning out, that his leader had left the Garden, and was walking along the street. “Where are the animals?” asked the little boy, who was beginning to feel that all was not right. “It’s a little further now,” was the answer. “They are feeding the polar bear, and the lion is mad because they didn’t give him his supper first, so we’ll have to wait a while.” This seemed reasonable to Jimmy, who knew that bears and lions were fierce beasts, and had to be humored. So he said nothing, only he wondered more and more why he had been taken away from the music and lights, and the companionship of his brother. But he was so small that he had no suspicions. On and on the two trudged. They had left the well-lighted streets, and were in a dark section of the city, where only an occasional gas lamp gave a fitful gleam that illuminated a small circle, and seemed to leave the rest in denser blackness than if there had been no light. “I’m afraid!” Jimmy said, after a while. “I want to go home!” “All right; we’ll go home after we see the animals!” said the youth, who seemed much elated over something. “Don’t want to see any animals! Want to go home!” Jimmy cried. “I want Larry! Take me to Larry!” and he began to sob. “Now wait a minute!” the lad leading him exclaimed. “I’m going to show you the finest steam engine you ever saw, and I’ll let you turn on the steam!” “Honest and truly?” asked Jimmy, his mind suddenly turned from the idea of tears. “Sure,” replied the youth. “It’s just around the corner. Come on, now, before it gets away.” Thereupon Jimmy hurried, full of glee at what had always been one of his childish ambitions—to run a steam-engine. The youth leading him went down many streets, until it seemed to the little fellow they must have traversed several miles. But Jimmy did not think of complaining, though he was very tired. His feet lagged behind now and again, however, and the youth leading him noticed this. “Poor kid, I sort of hate to do this,” he said, “but I have to, or lose my job, and I never could get another after what I’ve done. I wish I could take a car, but someone might see us, and then the jig would be up. It isn’t much farther, that’s one good thing.” He had been talking to himself in a low tone, and now and then he looked down on Jimmy to see how the little boy was standing the journey. “Is it much farther?” asked the small lad. “Not much. Just you think about the steam-engine, and you’ll not notice how tired you are.” “I’m trying to,” replied Jimmy, blinking to keep back the tears.