h voice ordering him to get up. It was
the lot watchman.

The big band chariot was slowly ascending the foothills of the
mountains. The east was ahead over the mountain. The curtain of night
was being lifted by the first streak of gray dawn spreading over the
sky. All were asleep in the wagon excepting the driver. Halting his team
he began winding the long reins about the big brakes. He was about to
climb down when Alfred inquired as to the trouble. The driver advised
that the off leader's inside trace was loose and the lead bars dragging.
Alfred advised the driver to sit still.

"I'll hook it up. How many links do you drop?" he asked as he pushed the
horse into place. He was on the wagon in a jiffy. The driver was greatly
taken with the boy. Further up the mountain at the big watering trough,
Alfred assisted in watering and washing the horses' shoulders. It was
only a day or two until Alfred was permitted to handle the reins over
the team, a favor this celebrated old horseman had never conferred upon
anyone previously.

Never will Alfred forget that journey up the mountains. Every turn of
the wheels of the big chariot, as they ground the limestone under their
weight until the flinty pebbles shed sparks, made him feel more lonely.
In the dim gray of the early day the distance seemed greater than when
softened by the light of the morning sun. He had often from afar viewed
the mountains over which they were traveling. As they ascended, he gazed
long and wistfully towards home, a home that lives in his memory today
as clearly as on that morning in the long ago.

[Illustration: On the Band Wagon]

When the crest of the ridge was reached and the descent on the other
side began, looking backwards, he imagined the world between him and
home. Right glad was he of the friendly advances of the old driver--they
were friends.

Soon the band men began to awaken, taking out their instruments,
arranging their clothing, and making preparation for the entrance into
town. The baggage wagons had preceded the band and performer's wagons.
There was but one animal van, Charley White's trained lions, the feature
of the show.

The teams halted. The driver placed plumes in the head gear of the
horses. The band men pulled on red coats and caps. As the horns tooted
and the cymbals clashed they entered the town.

Alfred assisted the driver to unhitch his team. Mr. Noyes arrived,
meanwhile. Alfred volunteered to take charge of his team. H