"Who is that you're calling?" asked the blacksmith sharply. Achilles heard, and instantly recognized the boy who had talked with him at Smyrna. It took but a few strides to bring him to the spot where Kit was held in captivity. "What does this mean?" he asked. "This man is dragging me away without authority," answered Kit. "Who is he?" asked the giant. "He is a blacksmith, and claims me as an apprentice, but I never agreed to work for him." "That's a lie," said the blacksmith, "he's my runaway apprentice." "I would believe the boy sooner than you," said Achilles, not favorably impressed by the blacksmith's bull dog look. "It doesn't make any difference what you believe," said Bickford, rudely; and he began to pull Kit in the direction of the wagon. "Let go that boy's collar," cried Achilles, sternly. "I won't!" retorted the blacksmith. "I advise you to mind your own business." Achilles Henderson, like most big men, was good natured, but he was roused by the other's insolence. He carried war into the enemy's camp by seizing the blacksmith and shaking him till he was compelled to release his grasp. "What do you mean by this outrage?" demanded Bickford, furiously. "It's only a gentle hint," said Achilles, smiling. "Now, my friend, I've got a piece of advice to give you. If that is your wagon back there you'd better get into it as soon as convenient--the sooner the better--and get out of my way or I'll give you a stronger hint." The blacksmith was too indignant to be prudent. What! Confess himself vanquished, and go home without the boy! The idea was intolerable to him. "I'm goin' to take the boy," he said, angrily, and darting forward he essayed to seize Kit by the collar again. "Oho! You need a stronger hint," said Achilles. With this he grasped the blacksmith about the middle, and tossed him over the fence into the adjoining field as easily as if he were a cat. Aaron Bickford did not know what had happened to him. He lay motionless for a few seconds, and then picked himself up with some difficulty, and confronted the giant with mingled fear and anger. "I'll have the law of ye for this," he shouted. Achilles laughed. "It's as you like," he said. "I've got my witnesses here," pointing to the two boys. Mr. Bickford got over the fence, and sullenly turned in the direction of his deserted wagon. "You'll hear from me again, all of you!" he shouted, shaking his fist. "Don't trouble yourself to write," said the giant, jocosely. "We can worry along without a letter." The blacksmith was too full of wrath for utterance. He kept on his way, muttering to himself, and shaking his fist at intervals. "Now what's all this about?" asked Achilles. "What's the matter with our amiable friend?" Kit explained. "So you don't want to be a blacksmith? Where are you going, if I may inquire?" "I'm going to join the circus," answered Kit. "In what capacity--as a lion tamer?" "No; I shouldn't fancy that business. I am to be an acrobat."