The great barred cage, with its three divisions, was now enclosed,
with various other cages and properties of the circus, within a
high canvas wall in the centre of the camp. The circus was to open
that night, and much remained to be done in the way of preparing a
ring in the big main tent, and so forth. A number of piebald horses
stood in different parts of the enclosure, nosing idly at the dusty
ground, and paying not the slightest heed either to the scent of
the different wild creatures, or to the roaring snarls and growls
that issued continuously from Killer's cage. Familiarity had bred
indifference in them to things which would have sent a horse from
outside half crazy with fear.

The Professor arrived with Sam, after a few minutes. He wore knee
boots, a vivid red shirt, and a much soiled old leather coat which
reached almost to his boots. From his right wrist there dangled a
long quilt, or cutting whip, of rhinoceros-hide. Born in the
neighbourhood of Pretoria, the Professor had been through most
phases of the showman's business in South Africa and, during the
past half-dozen years, in Australia. In one sense he was a cruel
man; but in the worst possible sense of the word he was not cruel.
That is to say, it gave him no particular gratification to inflict
pain; but he would inflict it to any extent at all, in the pursuit
of his ends. He was not afflicted with the loathsome disease of
wanton cruelty, but there was no pity in his composition, and
practically no sentiment. He was reckoned an able tamer of wild
beasts. By stirring up the tiger, as the Professor approached, the
boss provoked a striking exhibition of savage strength and ferocity
in Finn.

"Say, Professor," he said, with a smile, "what d'ye think of the
latest? How does the Giant Irish Wolf strike you, as an addition to
the domestic fireside? Sweet thing, ain't he? Couldn't you make him
do some sentimental stunts with the Java love-birds, now?"

The Professor inspected the furiously raging Finn with considerable
interest.

"You'll not manage much taming with this fellow, Professor, will
ye?" asked the boss, craftily aiming at putting the lion-tamer on
his mettle. "You'll hardly manage the Professor among his pets act
in this cage, eh?"

"I'd like to know what's goin' to stop me, boss," said the
Professor doughtily. "I guess you've forgotten the fact that
Professor Claude Damarel was the man who tamed the Tasmanian Wolf,
Satan; and the Tasmanian