It was led by Sport, at a pace totally at variance with the ordinary formal circus-wagon parade, for Sport was capable of much more speed than his years and his rheumatism would have induced one to believe. In fact, the only thing that prevented him from making a world's record was his tail, which kept getting tangled up with his front legs. A short distance behind Sport came the behemoth, lumbering, careening and snorting, but making very rapid progress. Then after a long blank space came Sube the Showman, on a bicycle he had commandeered for the occasion, pressed to the utmost to maintain the pace set by the leaders. Not far behind Sube came a motley crowd of blasphemous circus-hands and howling urchins. The rear guard was made up of the more mature onlookers whose curiosity was mightier than their caution. The parade proceeded by the most direct route to Canes' barn, the First Section arriving only a few feet in advance of the Second. Nor did the First Section tarry long in the barn; but hurled itself through a small hole in the rear wall that led into its kennel--and there it fell exhausted. The Second Section brought up with a loud snort in an abandoned horse stall, and stood puffing and wheezing and wondering what to do next, when the Third Section arrived and by almost superhuman efforts managed to close the big barn-door all but a few inches. The Third Section was peering so intently through the crack of the door in an effort to see whether the Second Section was sweating blood exackly as advertised, that it failed to note the coming of a rubber-tired runabout drawn by a team of milk-white Arabians, until the red-faced individual in charge of the conveyance exploded: "Well--I'll--be--blowed!" Sube quickly turned around, and recognizing at a glance that the man belonged with the circus, cried exultantly: "I've got 'im!" "So I should judge," replied the man, smiling broadly. At this moment the broken ranks of the Fourth Section began to arrive, badly winded but still swearing magnificently. "What do you know about that, boys!" shouted the red-faced individual, pointing with his milk-white whip at a poster on the barn-door. It was a relic of Sube's circus. OnLY GenUWiNe BLooD SweATTiNg BoHemuTH oF HoLy WRiT iN cAPiTiVity ADmiSion 5sTc 1o MArbLeS oR 20 PiNs "Did you capture him yourself?" asked the red-faced individual as he clambered heavily from the runabout. "Yes, sir." "May I see him?" Sube's assurance fled. His bashful reply was almost inaudible. "Yes, sir," he mumbled. "Five cents, I suppose," said the showman loudly as he pressed an unexpected nickel into Sube's hand and peered into the barn. Sube backed away a few steps and stood picking at the nickel with his thumbnail when the showman turned from the door and said to the circus hands: