“Drive ’em over this way!” yelled the circus man. “I’ll have heavy damages out of this railroad company, or my name isn’t Harry Stone. The idea of smashing my outfit this way! Hi there! Don’t let that pony get away! It’s one of our best trick performers. Lasso him, if you have to!” The circus men rushed up to an elephant that was about to take a stroll across the tracks and off into the open country. By hard work they succeeded in turning him back. A camel showed signs of fight, but was subdued. Joe and Blake were getting a fine lot of films, but they had to work quickly, for the circus men, with the speed that is characteristic of them, were rapidly getting order out of chaos and putting the animals back in the cars or cages. Where the vehicles were damaged the animals were doubled up. A lion cage on a wrecked flat car was being eased off by means of ropes and pulley, the tawny beast inside giving vent to his displeasure in growls and roars. “Some class to this film; eh?” cried Joe. “That’s right,” agreed his chum. “I’m sorry for the trouble, and for the hurt animals, and I’m glad none of the folks was killed, but it sure is a dandy chance for us.” “Look!” suddenly cried Joe. “That lion cage has gotten away from ’em!” As he spoke, Blake saw the cage beginning to run rapidly down the planks that had been laid to get it from the car to the ground. A rope had broken. “Hold it!” cried the circus man. But it was too late. With a rumble and crash the cage slid down to the ground, struck some obstruction, and the next moment toppled over on its side. There was a splintering of wood, a door flew open, and the big lion bounded out with a roar of defiance. “Wow!” cried Joe. “Look at that!” “A great chance!” exclaimed Blake, coolly. “We’ll film him!” and he proceeded to grind away at the crank as if he were making views of a most peaceful scene. There came a scream from the direction of the theatrical car, and Joe, looking, saw a number of ladies scrambling for the doors. The sight of the freed lion had been too much for them. There was a scattering of the circus men, too, at the sight of the tawny beast standing near the broken cage and lashing its sides with its tufted tail. “Get after him, boys!” cried the circus manager. “Not for mine!” replied several. “Cowards vot you are!” cried a new voice, and through the widening circle of wagon handlers stalked a man--evidently a German animal trainer. He carried a long whip, which he cracked viciously. At the snap the lion winced. “Down, King!” cried the man. “Down!” Once more the lion cringed, and then began to whimper. “You see how gentle he is--cowards vot you are!” sneered the man. He approached the great beast fearlessly, the lion, with shifting eyes, meanwhile following the man. “I lead him,” went on the German. “There iss no harm in King; is dere, olt fellow?” and he actually patted the head of the great beast.