The Port Gibson reveille., 1913-12-11


to be seen at such shows until later
and more fashionable hour. Gregory
was relieved to ind his topmost plank
filled with strangers,
"AlI goes WELL" be said. pressing
Grace's hand. Nobody viii and out
that we have been In here"
Watch for Mr.. Clinton" Grace
counseled cautiously. "If he comes
in. stoop lower"
They're all strangers, Grace. Provi-
dence Is with us-there's Simon Jeffers
son!" He was too amazed to think Of
concealment.
Hush! Yes-and Abbott Ashton"
Gregory pulled his hat over his
eyes.
Into the tent streamed fresh body
Of sight-seers. Simon. swinging to the
rope that was stretched in front Of the
big cage, grumbled at being elbowed
by weary mothers and broad-chested
farmers.
The band entered and squatted upon
blue boxes in one corner. Snowy red
coats were removed In Difference to
sweltering heat, and melody presided
in undress. Three bears, two clowns
and a bicycle sharpened interest in
what was to come, whetting the mind
upon Jokes blunter than the intelli-
gence of the audience. Even the band
ceased playing though that had not
seemed possible; its depressing an
dantinos had not only subdued the
bears, rendering them as harmless as
kittens, but had mournfully depressed
the audience.
Into this atmosphere OF tanned ineEtf
ness, suddenly flashed a little fgura
whose quivering vitality comInuni.
Gated electric thrills. Even the clowns
moved less like treadmin horses, aS
they took their stations at the smalleF
cages, waiting to lift the gates that
would admit the restless lions into the
central cage.
The form that had appeared-one
knew not whence-was that of slight
woman, dressed In a short skirt Of
blue, and bodice of white satin. The
trimmings which ran in all directions.
were rich In pendants of gold and
rubies. Above all, there was the al
Turing mystery Of q crimson mash
which effectually hid the woman'a
face.
Simon whispered into Abbott's aI
ways unready ear: That isn't La
Gonizetti. Wonder what this meansi
La Gonizett Is much more OF WON
an than this one, and she doesn't weaR
mask, or much Of anything else. La
Conizetti doesn't care who sees her
why, this Is nothing but meFe=
tell you now. II she amt on to her lob.
mean to have my money back. 81
mon glowered.
Abbott stared In great perplexity,
Then who is sheg" he exclaimed Isl
mon-doesn't she remind you of--oa
some one we knowf"
"Naw. She's got on La Gontzettih
dress, and her voice has the show
girls CLANCY tin-phnny-w -whangdoOdla
but that's all l recognize"
Abbott wondered that Simon failed
to notice the similarity between the
show-girl's movements and those Of
Fran. This woman had Fran's fOrn
To be sure the voice was entirely diff
ferent, but the rapidity and decisive
ness Of action, and the air Of authority
were F'ran's very own. However. the
show-girl's hands were as dark as an
Italians, while Fran's were-weIl, not
so dark, at any rate.
Abbott's brow did not relax. He
stood mctionless. staring at every
thing before him with painful intent
ness.
Up near the roof, Gregory and
Grace scarcely observed the entrance
Of the hon-tamer. Secured from
espial, absorbed in each other, they
were able, thanks to the surrounding
clamor Of voices. to discuss their fu.
ture plans with some degree OF conf.
dence.
Simon told Abbott-"Anyway no
amateur would rub up against those
beasts, so / guess it's all right. They
amt but two lions; bill says ten;
man that wrote the bill was the other
eight, ! reckon"