the grounds for
you to-day?"

"No," said Dorgan. "What's the use? I don't like an empty cage
standing around. Leave it on the car, Jake. Or--hold on! I'll use it.
Take it up to the grounds and put it in the side-show as usual. I'll
put the Pet in it."

"Are ye foolin'?" asked the loading boss with a grin. "The cage won't
know itself, Mister Dorgan, afther holdin' that rip-snortin' Wild Man
to be holdin' a cold corpse like the Pet is."

"Never you mind," said Dorgan shortly. "I know my business, Jake. You
and I know the Pet is a dead one, but these country yaps don't know
it. I might as well make some use of the remains as long as I've got
'em on hand."

"Who you goin' to fool, sweety?" asked a voice, and Mr. Dorgan looked
around to see Syrilla, the Fat Lady, standing in the car door.

"Oh, just folks!" said Dorgan, laughing.

"You're goin' to use the Pet," said the Fat Lady reproachfully, "and
I don't think it is nice of you. Say what you will, Mr. Dorgan, a
corpse is a corpse, and a respectable side-show ain't no place for it.
I wish you would take it out in the lot and bury it, like I wanted you
to, or throw it in the river and get rid of it. Won't you, dearie?"

"I will not," said Mr. Dorgan firmly. "A corpse may be a corpse,
Syrilla, any place but in a circus, but in a circus it is a feature.
He's goin' to be one of the Seven Sleepers."

"One of what?" asked Syrilla.

"One of the Seven Sleepers," said Dorgan. "I'm goin' to put him in the
cage the Wild Man was in, and I'm goin' to tell the audiences he's
asleep. 'He looks dead,' I'll say, 'but I give my word he's only
asleep. We offer five thousand dollars,' I'll say, 'to any man, woman,
or child that proves contrary than that we have documents provin' that
this human bein' in this cage fell asleep in the year 1837 and has
been sleepin' ever since. The longest nap on record,' I'll say.
That'll fetch a laugh."

"And you don't care, dearie, that I'll be creepy all through the show,
do you?" said Syrilla.

"I won't care a hang," said Dorgan.

Mr. Gubb glided noiselessly from under the car and sped away. He had
heard enough to know that deviltry was afoot. There was no doubt in
his mind that the Pet was the late Mr. Winterberry, for if ever a man
deserved to be called "Pet," Mr. Winterberry--according to Mrs.
Garthwaite's description--was that man. There was no doubt that Mr.
Winterberry had been murdered, and that these heartless wretches meant
to make