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"Can I help to take them in?" asked Hugh.

"If you're as steady with horses as you are with elephants, you can."

"I can ride."

"You don't need to ride. We'11 lead 'em in. But most of our ponies want careful handling, even to lead. They get queer tempers, traveling round—can't stand having their heads pulled about."

"You got a pony, Hugh?" demanded Nita.

The boy's face feil.

"Not now. I had, until lately, but he's sold now. He was a beauty, too."

"They're all that—till you buy 'em," said Big Dan, as one who knows.

"Oh, but Tinker was. A real beauty. He'd do anything

for me."

"Lie down an' die, an' dance, an' jump through hoops?" demanded Nita, all in a breath.

"Oh—well!" Hugh protested.

"Merrylegs can, anyhow. With me on him!"

"But he's a real Circus pony. Tinker wasn't, of course. But he'd rear when I told him, and piek up a handkerchief in his teeth, and go over jumps alone."

"That so?" Big Dan looked interested. "Pity you sold him."

"I didn't want to, but Father had to. We got too poor, you see," said Hugh, innocently.

"Who taught him his tricks?"

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