"The show's been held up for ten minutes! Get in there all of you!" Here followed a violent explosion of appropriate profanity. "The audience is gettin' wild. They'll be wantin' their money back unless the performance goes on purty blamed--" Braddock reached the man's side in three steps. He delivered a resounding slap on the ringmaster's cheek, almost knocking him down. The tall hat went spinning away on the ground. Tears of pain and terror flew to the fellow's eyes. He began to blubber. "Don't you swear in the presence of my wife and daughter,--you!" snarled Braddock, his own blasphemy ten times as venomous as the other's. "I--I beg your pardon, Mrs. Braddock," stammered the ringmaster in great haste. If the gaping, respectful hundreds could see the despot of the ring now! Braddock's daughter uttered a low moan of horror and amazement. Her heart swelled with pity for the poor wretch who dared not to defend himself. Ruby Noakes felt the quiver that ran through the girl's body. She promptly led her away from the spot. "Come with me while I change," she said quickly. Together they passed into the women's dressing-room. Christine's look of mute surprise and shame rested on David's face as the flap dropped behind her. A minute later, the humiliated ringmaster, Briggs by name, was cracking his whip in the middle of the ring, mighty lord of all he surveyed, although, to his chagrin, there was no clown present to receive the attention. In those good old days the circus carried but one clown. He was the most overworked man in the ring, but he had the satisfaction of knowing that he was the solitary idol of thousands. Grinaldi did not accompany the tumblers to the ring. The lone elephant that graced the show and the horses had been led out for the "lofty somersault men" to vault over after the run down the "spring board"; that part of the dressing-tent in which Braddock stood was now clear of humanity, except for his wife, the clown and David Jenison. "Well, he knows I don't permit swearing in front of my daughter," said Braddock, resenting the unspoken scorn in his wife's face. "Let's see that envelope," he added roughly. She held the coveted package behind her back, shaking her head resolutely. "How do I know there's five hundred in it?" he demanded. "There's more than that," said David nervously. "How do you know? It's never been opened." Mrs. Braddock glanced at the writing on the face of the staunch, yellow envelope. She started violently. In plain figures, in one corner, she saw: "$3,000." She realized, with a flash of shame, that it would be fatal to the boy's interests if her husband should come to know of the actual value of the package. She opened her lips to utter a word of caution to David, but he was too eager and too quick for her. "There's three thousand dollars in it," he said.