The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1913-11-27

whispering sound of the silken mask
as it struck the plank floor OF the
| cage, was distinctly audible.
"Grace!" Gregory whispered in hor-
ror-"it's Franz"
Grace started from his embrace at
the name and glared down upon the
| stage. She sat erect, unsupported
petrified.
Gregory's brow was moisteped with
chilled dew. Its Fran" he mum
bled, cts Fran! Grace-pray for herr"
Fran looked Samson steadily in the
eyes, and Samson glared back fixedly.
| For a few moments, this culver be-
tween life and death remained at the
breaking point. Had a stranger at
that moment looked under the tent
entrance, he might have thought every
body asleep. There was neither sound
nor movement.
Grace whispered-"It is the hand of
Cod"
Her tone was almost inaudible, but
| Gregory shrank as from mortal
blow; it's sinister meaning was unmis-
taxable. Swiftly he turned to stare at
her.
In Grace's eyes was a wild and ON
inous glare akin to that of the threat
ening lion. 1t was a savage conviction
that Fran was at last confronted by
the justice Of heaven.
Suddenly Fran crouched forward till
her head was almost on a level with
her waist, in so much that it was a
physical exertion to hold her face up
lifted. In this sinuous position she
was the embodiment of power. II she
felt misgivings concerning this last
, resource, there was no look to betray
it, Straight toward Samson she
rushed, her body 1.-THE and serpentine,
her direction unerring.
To the beast, Fran had become one
of those mysterious flying serpents
which bite from affair." He felt the
sting of her terrible eyes and his gaze
grew shifty. 1t wandered away, and.
on returning, found her teeth barred,
as If feeling for his heart.
Rushing up to his very face-"Sam-
SOM" she cried, impellingly.
Again he seemed to feel the lash
upon his tawny skin.
Samson. Up, Samson, up, Samson
-upi
Suddenly Samson wheeled about,
and leaped upon the table.
Fran stamped her foot at the other
lion. Go to your place, Hercules"
she cried, with something like con-
tempt.
Hercules slowly rose, stretched him
self, then marched to his box. He
looked from Fran to the immovable
Samson waiting upon the table, then
mounted to his place, and seemed to
fall asleep.
And now, at last, Fran looked at the
spectators Stepping lightly to the
bars, she threw kisses this way and
that, smiling radiantly. "Oh!" she
cried, with vibrating earnestness,
you people out there-you can't think
how love you! You've saved my life.
You are perfect heroes. Now make all
the noise you please"
MAY we mover" called cautious
voice from a few feet away. 1t was
Abbott Ashton, with eyes like stars.
Fran looked at him, wondering at
his thoughts. She answered by an up
ward movement of her hand.
AS though by carefully rehearsed
arrangement, the audience rose to it's
feet, band boys and all. Such a shout!
Such waving of hats and handker-
chiefs! Such unabashed sobs! Such
acknowledgements graspings of
neighboring hands! The spectators
had gone mad with joyful relief.
Fran leaped upon the table, and
| mounted Samson.
Nov, I'm a rough rider!" she
shouted, burying her hands In the
name, and lying along the lions back
in true cowboy fashion. She plunged,
she shouted loudly, but Samson only
closed his eyes and seemed to sleep.
After that, making the lions return
to their cramped side cages was a
mere detail. The show was ended.
| Fran, remaining in the empty cage,
| stood at the front, projecting her hand
| through the bars to receive the greet
ings of the crowd. Almost every one
wanted to shake hands with her.
Look, look!" Simon Jefferson sud
denly grasped Robert Clinton's hand
and pointed toward the tent-roof
| "Trnora theV ar0i"