"Down, Nero!" he cried; but Nero would not down. His wicked eyes glared, his tail lashed his sides, and he rushed at his keeper with hostile intent. It flashed upon King that Nero was becoming dangerous. "I shall have to kill you!" he cried, between his set teeth. He fired at the lion, but either the huge animal swerved or something affected his aim, for it did not hit the mark. Then Gerald thought it was time for him to act. His life as well as the keeper's was in peril. Raising his weapon he took steady aim. "Shoot him in the eye!" exclaimed King. Gerald obeyed, directions. As a boy, of course, he was not a practised marksman; but luck—or perhaps it would be better to say Providence—was on his side, and the bullet entered Nero's eye and penetrated to his brain. The lion swayed a moment, and then fell over on his side. Death seemed to be instantaneous. "By Jove! you have killed him!" exclaimed Paul King. "It was a fine shot!" "Is he really dead?" asked Gerald, finding it difficult to believe in his success. "Yes, he is dead fast enough. He is dead, and the circus is out nearly five thousand dollars." "That was better than to have him kill either of us." "You are right. I never knew Nero in such a mood. It must have been the horse's blood that excited him." "Have you any other lion in the show?" "Yes, one; but this was the best." "Shall you leave him here?" "I will send out some of my men to bury him. He was a grand beast, and deserves burial. And now let us be going back." "I will get off the horse and leave him to you," said Gerald. "No; since my lion killed your horse, it is only fair that you should ride on mine. To be sure you killed the lion." "I feel proud of it. I never expected to kill a lion." "You have reason to be proud. You are the only boy I ever knew that could say as much." Though Goldwin was a small town, a circus performance was given there during the evening. Five miles away was a mining station, and some seventy-five miners were in attendance. Gerald was glad to go, partly because it filled up his evening agreeably, and partly from the taste for such performances which he had in common with most boys of his age. It was a small show, but Goldwin had never had a visit from Barnum or Forepaugh, and vociferously applauded the clown, the bareback riders, the trapeze performers, and other acts familiar to the regular circus goer.