other things to
think of, and the act of Madame Bullriva went unheralded, to her great
disgust.

"Talk about footlight favorites," she complained to Helen Morton, as
they dressed together for a performance, "that Joe Strong is getting
all that's coming to him."

"Oh, I don't think he tries to take away from any of us," Helen
answered.

"No, he doesn't personally. He's a nice boy. But Tracy makes too much
fuss over him. I like Joe, but he and his partners are 'crabbing' my
act, all right."

"Perhaps if you spoke to him----"

"What! Me? Let him know I cared? I guess not! I'll join some other
circus first."

"You might put another man on the platform, and lift thirteen," the
young trick rider suggested.

"What! Lift thirteen? That would be unlucky, my dear. I did it once
when I was on the Western circuit in a Wild West show, and believe
me--never again! I strained a shoulder muscle, and I had to lie up in
a hospital five weeks. Twelve men are enough to lift at once, take it
from me! But Joe is a nice boy, I'll say that. Don't you like him?"

Helen's answer was not very clear, but perhaps that was because she was
fixing her hair in readiness for the entrance into the ring with her
trained horse, Rosebud.

Joe, Helen and Benny Turton seemed to have formed a little group among
themselves. They sat together at the circus table, and when they were
not "on," they were much in the company of one another.

They were about the same age, and they enjoyed each other's society
greatly, being congenial companions. Joe was "introduced" to Rosebud
and, being naturally fond of animals, he made friends with the
intelligent horse at once, which pleased Helen.

She and Joe were getting very fond of one another, though perhaps
neither of them would have admitted that, if openly taxed with it.
But, somehow or other, Joe seemed naturally to drift over near Helen
when they were both in the tent, awaiting their turns. And when their
acts were over they either took walks together in and about the town
where the circus was playing, or they sat in their dressing tent
talking. Often Benny Turton would join them, always being made welcome.

But Benny did not have much time. His shimmering, scaly, green suit
was quite elaborately made, and it took him some time to get into it.
It took equally as long to get out of it, and after his act he was
always more or less exhausted and had to rest.

"I don't know what's the