cant enough that Dan made no further mention of giving him to the care of the police. They had traveled beyond the district in which they had found him: she knew that it would no longer be a simple matter to have him accepted by the authorities. For good or ill, Hugh Russell was a member of Peterson's Circus.
Nearly every night he watched the performance. As a spectacle it soon ceased to have any novelty or thrill, so that to have witnessed it only as a member of the crowd would have been more of a penance than a pleasure. He went for another reason now. Jeff, who was his hero, did not cease to impress upon him the need for studying every detail of the ring-craft. He knew that Jeff watched steadily as he worked; that he would take another man's job so that he could be present at rehearsals or practice. That was because he meant to be a circus owner one day. It followed that as Hugh was determined to be in Jeff's Circus he must watch too.
Jeff was never weary in telling him the points to observe: the innumerable details, unsuspected by the audience, that went to make the finished performance. Under his guidance Hugh found that the show grew more and more interesting to him. He no longer thrilled at the most exciting horse "turn," but he strained his attention to judge the length of a man's run at a galloping horse, the exact position of his feet as he took off for his leap, the balance of his body as he stood swaying in unison with the horse. Even six inches' miscalculation in the run meant a leap that, instead of being clear and