After that we went along as usual, and except that we were more than commonly polite to each other, nobody would have suspected anything was the matter. While we had been friends we often had little tiffs; but after we became enemies--for that was what we inevitably became--we were politer than French dancing masters to each other. We didn't do the balloon-trapeze act everywhere. If we only made one-night stands, or if the stage was too small, or if the lessee of the house objected to it, we didn't have it, but still we had five or six weeks of it before Christmas, and Jenny never would witness it, but went and hid her face when it came off--so that only made it plainer that she liked one of us, but which one nobody could guess. It often occurred to me when we were rising slowly on that trapeze in front of the foot-lights, doing all kinds of monkey tricks while the people yelled and shouted, and the balloon was going up into the flies, that Ted could do me a mischief that nobody would know anything about after I was mashed and bruised out of shape by the fall, and I dare say he thought the same of me. Nothing happened, however, until one night--it was the very night before Christmas. Now, excepting the bad blood between the Valbella Brothers, I don't believe there was a man or a woman in that company who wasn't at peace and in good-will with the others that blessed Christmas Eve. Sam Stacker was such a kind, honest, soft-hearted but hard-headed old customer that he made quarreling unpopular and almost impossible. He had given us all something that day, and Jenny Hobbs's present was the best of any. I wanted to give Jenny something too, but I hardly thought it fair to my understanding with Ted. But just before the performance began, Jenny came to me, smiling and blushing very much, and said: "I've--I've got a Christmas gift for you." "Have you?" cried I, delighted. "You've been so k--k--kind to me," she stammered, "getting Mr. Stacker to give me an engagement, and taking Jack along too, and--and--all--that. I want you to wear this in memory of a friend." And she held out to me a little ring with a coral set in it, and inside, sure enough, was, "In memory of a friend." Of course I was delighted, and I must say I tried to kiss her, but she slapped my face, and I went back where Dag and a lot of fellows were and showed my Christmas gift, and they all laughed and wanted to know when it was coming off. I dare say now it wasn't very generous to show it and boast of it but the temptation was irresistible, and, besides, it was no breach of our engagement. I had made no advances to Jenny, and perhaps, as I thought a little dispiritedly, the mere friendliness of my behavior may have been the reason she gave me the ring. But you may be sure I kept that impression to myself, and was willing to let the rest of the people think the whole thing was settled.