ad. "He don't let me," he declared. But he was as
careful as ever to speak with no bitterness. Without question, in this
tall stranger Big Tom had an ally.

"He don't let y'," drawled the other. "Don't let y' go t' school.
Hm!--Say, y' know, I think I'd like that feller!"

He must get away! Suddenly throwing all the weight of himself and his
books into the effort, Johnnie tried to pull free of his companion,
using both hands.

The one-eyed man held on. His grasp was like steel--yes, even like Big
Tom's grasp. "Aw, sonny!" he cried, as if suddenly repentent. Then
seizing Johnnie under both arms, he swung him to the top of those steps.

That same moment wide doors opened before them, and a vast, dim place
was disclosed to the boy's astonished view. "Why--! What--! Oh--!" he
marveled.

The one-eyed man shut the doors by retreating and giving them a push
with his back. Then he thrust Johnnie toward a second flight of steps.
These led down to a basement only partly lighted, full of voices,
tramplings, and strange smells. Frightened, Johnnie made out the
upraised heads of horses--lines of them! He could see a group of men
too, each as big-hatted and shaggy-trousered as this one who still had
him about his middle.

A great cry went up from that group--"Yip! yip! yip! yip!
_yee-e-e-e-eow!_ One-Eye!"

"Oh, Mister," breathed Johnnie, "is it the circus?"

CHAPTER X

THE SURPRISE

"GIT on t' the size of it! . . . . Oh, my Aunt Sally! . . . . Lookee
what the cat brung in! . . . . Boys, ketch me whilst I faint! . . . . Am
I seein' it, or ain't I--w'ich? . . . . Say! they's more down cellar in
a teacup!"

Johnnie understood that it was all about himself, and even guessed that
he looked a little queer to these men who appeared so strange to him.
They were gathered around in a boisterous circle, exclaiming and
laughing. He revolved slowly, examining each. Some were stocky and some
spindling. Two or three were almost boyish; the others, as old as
One-Eye. But in the matter of dress, one was exactly like every other
one--at least so far as could be judged by a small boy in a moment so
charged with excitement.

He felt no resentment at their banter, sensing that it was kindly. He
liked them. He liked the great, mysterious basement. He felt precisely
like another Aladdin. No magical smoke had gone up, and no stone had
been lifted. Yet here he was in a new and entrancing world!

He would have liked to stay right the