ake him a present of ten dollars, but he
refused to accept it.

"I was glad of the chance to see what I could do on the trapeze," he
said. "I never expect to follow it up, but I have already received an
offer of an engagement in that line."

"So I heard. And you don't care to accept it?"

"No; I do not mean to be a circus performer permanently."

"You are right. It leads to nothing, and before middle life you are
liable to find yourself unfitted for it."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CLOSE OF THE CIRCUS.

Days and weeks flew swiftly by. September gave place to October, and the
circus season neared its close. Already the performers were casting
about for employment during the long, dull winter that must elapse
before the next season.

"What are your plans, Kit?" asked Antonio Vincenti, who in private
called his young associate by his real name.

"I don't know yet, Antonio. I may go to school."

"Have you saved money enough to keep you through the winter?"

"Yes; I have four hundred dollars in the wagon."

This is the expression made use of to indicate "in the hands of the
treasurer."

"You've done better than my brother or I. We must work during the
winter."

"Have you any chance yet?"

"Yes; we can go to work in a dime museum in Philadelphia for a month,
and afterwards we will go to Chicago, where we were last winter. I
could get a chance for you, too."

"Thank you, but I don't care to work in that way at present. If I went
anywhere I would go to Havana, where I am offered a profitable
engagement."

"Has Mr. Barlow said anything to you about next season?"

"Yes; but I shall make no engagement in advance. Something may happen
which will keep me at home."

"Oh, you'll be coming round in the spring. You'll have the circus fever
like all the rest of us."

Kit smiled and shook his head.

"I haven't been in the business long enough to get so much attached to
it as you are," he said. "But at any rate, I shall come round to see my
old friends."

The last circus performance was given in Albany, and the winter quarters
were to be at a town twenty miles distant. Kit went through his acts
with his usual success, and when he took off his circus costume, it was
with a feeling that it might be the last time he would wear it.

The breaking up was not to take place till the next day, and he was
preparing to spend the night in some Albany hotel.

He had taken off his tights, as has been said, and put on his st