creen masterpiece."

"I suppose it is one of these little fly-by-night shows!" scoffed Mercy.
"Let's see that bill. Dakota Joe's Wild West and Frontier Round-Up' Mm!
Sounds big. But the bigger they sound the smaller they are, as a rule."

"I am glad I am not a pessimist," sighed Jennie Stone. "It must be an
awfully uncomfortable feeling inside one to wear such a cloak."

"Ow! Ow!" cried Helen again. "Another Hibernianism, without a doubt."

She turned the car into a much-traveled road just then. Not a mile ahead
loomed the "big top." A band was playing, and what it lacked in
sweetness it certainly made up in noise.

"Look at the cars!" exclaimed Ruth, becoming interested. "We shall have
to park before long, Helen, and walk to the show lot."

"Right here!" returned Helen, with vigor, and turned her car into a field
where already a dozen automobiles were parked. A man with a whisp of
whisker on his chin, and actually chewing a straw, motioned the young
girl where to run her car. He was evidently the farmer who owned the
field, and he was surely "making hay while the sun shone," for he was
collecting a quarter from every automobile owner who wished to get his
car off the public road.

"Your car'll be all right here, young ladies," he said, reaching for the
quarter Ruth offered him. "I'm going to stay here myself and watch 'em
until the show's over. Cal'late to stay here anyway till them wild
Injuns and wilder cowboys air off Peleg Swift's land yonder. No knowing
what they'll do if they ain't watched."

"Listen to the opinion our friend has of your old Wild West Show,"
hissed Jennie, as Ruth hopped out of the seat beside Helen.

Ruth laughed. The other girls, getting out of the car on the other side,
were startled by hearing her laugh change to a sudden ejaculation.

"Dear me! has that thing broken loose from the show?"

Jennie was the first to speak, and she stepped behind the high car in
order to catch sight of what had caused Ruth's exclamation. Instantly
the plump girl emitted a most unseemly shout:

"Oh! Oh! Look at the bull!"

"What is the matter with you, Heavy?" demanded Mercy snappishly.

But when she and Helen followed the plump girl behind the automobile,
they were stricken dumb with amazement, if not with fear. Tearing down
the field toward the row of automobiles was a big black bull--head down,
strings of foam flying from his mouth, and with every other indication
of extreme wrath.

"Run!" shri