"I'd like to see the dwarf and the woman with hair five feet long. A circus is dreadful expensive, but bein' as we're here we might as well see the whole thing." Twenty cents was paid at the door, and the economical pair, grown suddenly so extravagant, walked in. The first object on which the blacksmith's eyes rested kindled him with indignation, and recalled mortifying memories. It was Achilles Henderson, the giant, who, on his side recognized Aaron Bickford. "Good evening, my friend," he said, with a smile. "I believe we have met before." "Do you know him?" asked Mrs. Bickford, in surprise. Aaron's brow contracted as he answered: "It's the ruffian that threw me over the fence this morning." "I see you remember me," said Achilles, good-naturedly. "I ought to remember you," retorted the blacksmith. "Come, don't bear malice. It was only a little joke." "I don't like such jokes." "Well, well; I'll give you satisfaction. I'll let you throw me over the fence any time you want to, and I won't make a particle of resistance." Somehow this proposal did not strike the blacksmith as satisfactory. He asked abruptly: "Where's the boy?" "There were two boys." "I mean the stout, broad-shouldered boy." "I don't know just where he is at present." "Do you know why I've come here this evening?" "To see the show, I expect." "I've come to get that boy. I've no doubt he's somewhere about here." "Oho!" thought the giant; "I must put my young friend on his guard." "If you'll help me I'll do as much for you some time." "So you are going to carry him back with you?" went on Achilles, desirous of learning the extent of Kit's danger. "Yes, I am." "You say he is your apprentice?" "Of course he is." "And you've got the papers to show for it?" "I don't need no papers. I've got his uncle's consent." "I think, my friend, you're not familiar with the law," thought Achilles. "Kit won't go with you to-night." But it was nearly time for the performance. Mr. and Mrs. Bickford left the smaller tent, and entering the big one took their seats. They watched the performance with great wonder and enjoyment till the entrance of Kit and the Vincenti brothers. They did not immediately discover him, but when he stood on the shoulders of Alonzo Vincenti, who, in turn, stood on the shoulders of Antonio, and the three-storied acrobat walked round the ring, Mrs. Bickford recognized Kit, and, pointing with her parasol to the young acrobat, as she half raised herself from her seat, she exclaimed in a shrill voice: "Look, Aaron, there's your boy, all rigged out in circus clothes!" "Well, that beats all!" ejaculated the blacksmith, gazing with wide open mouth at Kit. Just then, Kit, reversing his attitude, raised his feet in the air and was borne round the ring, amid the plaudits of the spectators. "How do you think he does it?" asked Mrs. Bickford in astonishment. "I give it up," said the blacksmith. "He's a smart critter. Do you think they pay him?"