The two brothers quickly started on their errand, and Anak, turning to Tarbox, said, "You miserable brute, if I ever hear of your attempting to abuse a poor boy again, I'll travel five hundred miles if necessary to kick you as I have kicked your dog. Go back to your house or I may do it now." Tarbox needed no second order. He was rather afraid that he too might feel the weight of the giant's boot, and he hurried away. Safe in his own yard, he shouted, "I'll have you punished for this, you big rascal!" Anak only laughed. "We may as well be going back, Robert," he said; "I don't want to get into any more fights." CHAPTER III. THE WRATH OF MR. TARBOX. Colman's Grand Combined Circus and Menagerie, with its line of showy chariots, its collection of animals from all parts of the habitable world, and its general array of wonders, had pitched its tent in a large otherwise unoccupied lot in the eastern part of the town. An immense tent, capable of containing six thousand spectators, had been erected, and presented a picturesque appearance. All was hurry and bustle in and around the circus tent. Crowds of staring urchins were gathered as near as possible, on the chance of seeing something of the wonders hidden by the canvas. I am afraid more boys played truant on that day than had done so for many previous weeks, for to the mind of the average school-boy there is nothing more seductive than a travelling show. Anak and Robert had been missed, for it was not often they absented themselves so long, and it is possible that the heart of the manager might have been stirred by apprehensions lest two of his greatest attractions should have taken French leave and forsaken him on the eve of battle. When they were seen approaching, a boy smaller than Robert ran to meet them. This was Charlie Davis, also a bareback rider, but a year younger than Robert, who performed an act with him. "Where have you been, you two?" he asked. "I thought you'd run away?" "If Anak ran away, it would take a fast runner to catch him," said Robert. "No, we've been taking a walk." "Why didn't you tell me? I should like to have gone, too." "You're not much of a walker, you know, Charlie. Still you might have helped us. We got into a fight." "Where? Who did you fight with?" asked Charlie, his curiosity aroused. "With a brutal old farmer, who had tied a boy to a tree, and was going to flog him. You ought to have seen how Anak tamed him down. He just took him by the collar, and shook him as a cat would a rat." "What did he do?" "He called his dog, a big, ugly brute, named Bruiser. Bruiser's funeral will take place to-morrow." "I wish I had been with you," said Charlie, in a tone of disappointment. "If you had, I should have let you do the fighting," said Anak. "Well, Charlie, how are things getting on?"