The Northern Guardian. — 1894-04-03 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

CHAPTER XXX.—;Ccntinued).  'niece was something so tiorrinly cmspairing in the man's manner, as to make it evident that this was indeed his last chance, and Eferr Petmnowski considered for a moment.  "Well, I daresay I can find you a ;fob in the mows." he said at last. "11l see shout it to-morrow. and in the meantime here's something to find you a night's lodging."  fne -man took his gift with a few muttered thanks, and, promising, to call at the circuk in Ova morn went away, while the manager devoutly prayed that he might break his word.  "Twee old acquaintances cropping up are an awful nuisance," he muttered, al he made his way homewards. "But he's not the sort of fellow I should like to drive into a c,,rner. I wish he might find his bed in the river, that's all."  But Bettie Grant did no such thing. As he had told his old acquaintance, he had tried suicide, and found it difficult: and now, being refreshed with meat, drink, and sleep, he presented himself before the manager next morning, with much the same seedy, flashy, disreputable figure that had used to frequent the 'Potion Music Hall, New York. Herr Petronowski kept his word, and, after a few preBminary arrangements, Beetle Grant was duly installed as assistant stable-hap, and ,nstructed that part of his duties wmed be to go into the ring, and bold banners, hoops, and lead the hcrses. "Look here," he said, in affright, to the manager. "I never thought) of that, you know. I might be seen, and that's just what I want to avoid."  " Oh, well!" answered the Herr, "I can't help that, you know, you must take your chance." But the man was so evidently fearful of being recognised that Herr Petronowski thought over the matter, and at last a happy idea struck him. " I'll tell you what you shall do," be said. "Turn nigger; no one will know you then." Bertie Grant caught at the idea, and that same day saw him introduced to the members of the troupe as a genuine Fast Indian, under the name of Gungsdeem  _ The deception was complete, none of the company having any suspicion that he was other than he seemed. He spoke very little English, but was soon discov:red to be an able rider, indeed, his performance on a 3 oung horse, perfect to look at but with the temper of a fiend, gave him at once a high place in the estimation of those who knew what managing restive flows VW like. In fact, he was a great acquisition t 6 the company, and won commendation from all, till one morning the Infant Prodigy, who had been laid up for a few days with a cold, entered the ring for the first time since the new-corner's arrival, and a curious incident occurred. _ (iungadeen gave a tremendous start, and nearly fell off the horse he was riding. " Hallo ! what's up now 9" asked the ringmaster, more surprised than pleased, i,tit the supposed Hindoo muttered some excuse m broken English, and went on with his work.  As soon as he had finished, however, he found out Herr Petronowaki, and, drawing him on one aide, asked who the boy was.  "The devil take the brat," said Vle annoyed manager. "What do you want to know for?" . _  "Because he is the hying image of someone I know —that's all."  "He seems to be lila a dozen peop!e," Herr Petronowski eNclaimed testily. "There was a man bothered my life out about him, coming here from the north. It's lucky tor me that Ido know who he is.,  "Who asked coo?" said the othcr, excitedly. "Was his name Temple ?"  "Temple ? No. What on earth ails you, Grant; I've got the man's card here somewhere. Oh! hero It is. Clevedon—Ar War Clevedon, do you know him? Why, what's up ?" "Nothing—nothing."  "That chap's troubles have driven him silly, poor beggar," the manager soliloquised, as the mock Indian turned away. But Bertie Grant was not mad. He watched the child, whose sudden app-arance had so nearly made him betray hat' uself. ,inconscious that he was as closely watrlied in t' n, and that the black skin he had asistith- wee ss to another pair of eyes besides these of his employer.