was springing onto the back of Barbarian. He was a poorly trained
horse, used by the other girl for more showy, but less dangerous feats
than Polly's.

"She's goin' through her regular turn with him, she's tryin' ter break
her neck," said Jim. "She wants ter do it. It's your fault!" he cried,
turning upon Douglas with bloodshot eyes. He was half insane, he cared
little whom he wounded.

"Why can't we stop her?" cried Douglas, unable to endure the strain. He
took one step inside the entrance.

"No, no; not that!" Jim dragged him back roughly. "If she sees you now,
it will be the end." They watched in silence. "She's over the first
part," Jim whispered, at last.

Douglas drew back, his muscles tense, as he watched the scene inside
the ring. Eloise stood at the pastor's side, horror-stricken at Polly's
reckless behaviour. She knew Barbarian. It was easy to guess the end.

"She's comin' to the hoops," Jim whispered, hoarsely.

"Barbarian don't know that part, I never trained him," the other girl
said.

Polly made the first leap toward the hoops. The horse was not at fault;
it was Polly. She plunged wildly, the audience started. She caught her
footing with an effort. One, two, three hoops were passed. She threw
herself across the back of the horse and hung, head downward, as he
galloped around the ring. The band was playing loudly, the people were
cheering. She rose to meet the last two hoops.

"She's swayin'," Jim shrieked in agony. "She's goin' to fall." He covered
his face with his hands.

Polly reeled and fell at the horse's side. She mounted and fell again.
She rose and staggered in pursuit.

"I can't bear it," groaned Douglas. He rushed into the ring, unconscious
of the thousands of eyes bent upon his black, ministerial garb, and
caught the slip of a girl in his arms just as she was about to sink
fainting beneath the horse's hoofs.

Barker brought the performance to a halt with a crack of his whip. The
audience stood on tiptoe. White-faced clowns and gaily attired acrobats
crowded around Polly and the pastor.

Douglas did not see them. He had come into his own.

"He's bringin' her out," whispered Eloise, who still watched at the
entrance. Jim dared not look up, his head was still in his hands.

"Is it over?" he groaned.

"I don't know. I can't tell yet." She stepped aside as Douglas came out
of the tent, followed by a swarm of performers. He knelt on the soft
grass and rested Polly's head upon his kn