dark behind the tent: they struck matches, scarcely believing that they would find anything. Jeff uttered a cry.
"It's him all right. Hugh! Wake up!" Hugh did not stir. Jeff pulled him out gently and put him on his feet, holding him up.
"Hugh, old man—wake up. You're nearly due in the ring!"
Hugh opened his eyes drowsily. They closed again, and his head feil against Jeff.
Pazo came running with a hurricane-lantern—they blessed him for it. He looked keenly at the boy's face.
" 'E is seek, I t'ink."
"He can't be sick!" Jeff said. "He's only dead asleep. There's a bucket of water in the tent—quick!"
They splashed the water freely over Hugh's face. He blinked feebly, wriggled in a protesting way, and continued to sleep.
"No good," Jeff said, putting him on his blankets. "And, my goodness! we're due in the Big Top, Mick! Pazo, can you get some one to him?—Mrs. Peterson would come, I know. We'11 have to go."
"You mus' fly, to warn ze Boss—ze boy's turn is oll smashed," said Pazo. "Run! I vill see to 'im: I 'ave ze time yet. Run!"
They ran, knowing they were already late. Jeff's mind was busy. He loved Hugh, but, as always, with Jeff it was "Circus first"; and at the moment Hugh's turn with Joey was more important than the boy himself. He could think of no substitute but Eddie, who, for all that he