Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1913-03-06

are more like men than clowns art"
Abbott found himself intensely
nervous. He longed to have 1t all
over, anxious, above all. to prove his
fears groundless. Yet how were 80
many condolences to be explained
away? Fran had been a show.girl, a
trainer OF lions. and Abbott distinctly
remembered that she had spoken Of a
Samson" Fran had just these move
ments and this height. He missed
Fran's mellow voice. but voices may be
disguised and the hands now raised
toward the audience may have been
stained dark. Who was that "sick
friend" that Fran had possibly men.
toned only as an excuse for escaping?
Was that subterfuge? And why this
red mask which, according to Simon
Jefferson. was an innovation?
At every trick. the black-maned lion
baked. He seemed resolved not to
leap upon the wall-bracket: and, after
attaining that precarious elevation, he
pretended not to understand that he
must descend. His characterization
disquieted the enormous animal act.
ing the corresponding part. Even he
began to pace softly to and fro at
such times as he should have remained
motionless. s.4..,
Wien the time came for the clown
to hand the woman her violin he was
afraid, and withdrew his arm with
marvellous rapidity. His gortesque dis
guise could not hide his genuine I'M
easiness. The members of the band,
too, played their notes with unusual
care. lest the slightest deviation from
routine work bring catastrophe. Moth.
ing had gone right but tho see-sawing
act; but Of all this, the crowd was
ignorant. 'f
After the violin playing--"Nbw,"
Simon Jefferson announced, gleefully,
there's only one more act, but It's a
corker, let me tell you--that's why
she's res ting minute. La Confetti
gets astrfde Of .Samson-the one that's
mad-and grabs his name, and pre-
tends to ride like cowboy. Calls
herself Rough.Ri Makes Samson
get on top Of that table, then she gets
on top OF him"
But this isn't La Confetti" Alb
bolt protested, shuddering again. n
Now you've said something. That's
right But it looks like she's game
she'll try it-we'd better stand little
farther back" it
A hand was laid upon Abobtt's arm.
Abbott" said the voice Of Robert
Clinton, harsh from smothered excite
ment, "You went to Gregory's house
did you see him."
Abbott did not hear The refractory
lion, knowing that his time had come
to re ridden, was asserting his indie
pendence. He would not leap upon the
table. The other lion stood watching
sleepiy to see II he would obey.
THAT you, Clinton?" Simon's greet
ing was tense with enjoyment. Got
here for the best Of 1t, didn't you!
Seems to me saw Gregory somewhere
not long ago, but wasn't thinking
about him" ..s =, 4,...:sa =. s.st.-
"Hercules!" the masked woman ad-
dressed the gentler Of the lions. Go
to your place Hercules-go to your
place."
hercules turned to his blue box, and
seated himself upon It, leaving his
tail to take care Of itself.
Say, Simon muttered Robert
Clinton, you didn't see Miss Grace
Noir. did you?"
"Shut up!' said Simon desperately.
The show-girl was hercely address,
ing the black-mained lion. Now!
Now! To the table! To the table,"
Samson did not bulge. Facing the
woman Of the mask, he opened his
mouth. revealing the red cave OF his
.throat-past the ivory sentinels that
not only stood guard, but threatened,
one could look down and down. This
was no yawn OF WEAKNESS. but. a sign
of rebelion---a sort Of noiseless roar.
The trainer retreated to the farther
side OF the cage, then made forward
rush, waving her whip, and shouting
dangerously, Cup. Samson, up Sam
son up!' She did not pause In her
course TIL close to his face.
\ Again he opened his mouth, barring
every tooth, voiceless. but uncon-
quered.
Hercules, finding that affairs had
come to a halt, slowly descended from
HIS box, keeping his hAlf-opened eyes
upon tho woman. Restlessly be began
to pace before the outer door.
The slight figure withdrew several
steps. then sm0te the rebellious lion
sharp blow across the mouth. He
snapped viciously at the lash. It
slipped away from between his teeth.
Having rescued her whip, she shouted
to the other lion "Back to your place,
Herucles. Hercules--back to your
place" :,
She stood pointing sternly toward
the box, but Hercules stretched him
self across the place Of exit and lay
watching her covertly.
The faces Of the band boys had be-
come Of yellowish paleness. They
continued to pound and blow, but the
music was not the same; terrible
forboding brought sense of faintness
even to the boldest.
From behind the mask came the
voice 40 loud that 1t sounded as a.
scream-"Up, Samson, up, Samson
UP!"
Then it was that Samson found his
voice. A mighty roar shook the losely
set bars Of the central cage-they VI
brated visibly. The roar did not come
as one short sharp note of defiance;
Il rose and fell. then rose anew. vary
ing in the infections Of the voice OF
a slave who dares to threaten, fears
even while he threatens, and gathers