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''He is," said Micky. "I've had me eye on him, but he went off peaceful. I'm after keepin' tally on a fellow that's hangin' round, though. He's over there, on the road beyant the tent."

"What's he there for?"

"I dunno, at all. But it looks to me as if he was afther no good: he's a stranger. You'd never know what quare friends that wee rat Toby 'ud be havin'. I wouldn't lave the boy, wid him about."

'TH precious quick move him on!" Jeff said, angrily. "Come an' see what he's up to: most likely he'11 clear out when he see us comin'!"

But the man leaning on the fence did not move as they approached him. He looked at them steadily in the moonlight.

"What are you doing here?" Jeff inquired roughly. "Got any business?" The face was vaguely familiar to him: he puzzled as to where he had seen it bef ore. Micky was quicker of memory.

"Begob, it's the kid's father!"

Jeff stiffened. There was silence for a moment.

"Well—what are you going to do about him?" Jeff asked.

"I came to see if he were all right," said Russell, slowly. "My ship got back to Sydney yesterday: I found out from the agents where the circus was. He's quite well?"

"Better than he's ever been, I should say—no thanks to you!"