other without moving. Indeed, Kit stood
as if fascinated before the mighty beast, and a thrill passed through
his frame as he realized the terrible danger into which he had
impulsively rushed. But he knew full well that his peril was each
instant growing greater. He could not retreat now, for the furious beast
would improve the chance to spring upon him and rend him to pieces.

With curious deliberation he drew from his pocket a paper parcel, while
the lion, as if stirred by curiosity, eyed him attentively. He opened it
carefully, and then, without an instant's delay, he flung a handful of
the snuff which it contained full in the eyes of the terrible animal.

No sooner had he done so than he gave a spring, and in a flash was over
the parapet and back in his seat.

It was not a moment too soon!

The lion was blinded by the snuff, which caused him intense pain. He
released the terrified clown, who lost no time in escaping from the
arena, while the vanquished beast rolled around on the sawdust in his
agony, sending forth meanwhile the most terrible roars.

By this time the circus management had recovered from its momentary
panic. The trainer and half a dozen animal men (those whose duty it was
to take care of the animals) rushed into the circle, and soon obtained
the mastery of the lion, whose pain had subdued his fury, and who was
now moaning piteously.

Then through the crowded tent there ran a thrill of admiration for the
boy who had delivered them all from a terrible danger.

One man, an enthusiastic Western visitor, sprang to his feet, and,
waving his hat, exclaimed: "Three cheers for the brave boy, who has
shown more courage than all the rest of us put together! Hip, hip,
hurrah!"

The call was responded to with enthusiasm. Men and even women rose in
their seats, and joined in the cheering. But some of the friends of Kit
amended the suggestion by crying, "Hurrah for Kit Watson!"

"Hurrah for Kit Watson!" cried the Western man. "He's the pluckiest kid
I ever saw yet."

Kit had not been frightened before, but he felt undeniably nervous when
he saw the eyes of two thousand people fixed upon him. He blushed and
seemed disposed to screen himself from observation. But at this moment a
tall, portly man advanced from the front of the tent, and came up to
where Kit was sitting.

"My boy," he said, "do me the favor to follow me. I am Mr. Barlow."

It was indeed the proprietor of the circus. He had come in person