t can't be dropped."

"Having trouble, eh?" asked the tramp, who had moved a little to one
side.

"Oh, well, just a little," admitted Joe, who was not altogether pleased
that this talk should have been overheard by a stranger.

"Did you say there was any chance for a job?" asked the ragged man.

"Well, I don't know," said Joe, rather doubtfully. "Is that straight
goods, about your being a fire-eater?"

"I was once. But I'm not looking for that kind of a job now," was the
quick answer. "I lost my nerve, I tell you. Handling stakes or driving a
wagon would be my limit."

"What sort of an act in the fire line did you have?" asked Joe, for a
certain idea was beginning to form in his mind.

"It was a good act!" was the response, and again the spark of pride
seemed about to be fanned into a flame. "Got any old-timers in this here
circus of yours?"

"Yes," answered Joe. "There's Jim Tracy and Bill Watson and--"

"Bill Watson who used to clown it?" cried the man eagerly.

"He clowns it yet."

"Old Bill!" murmured the tramp. "Him still making good in the business,
and me a bum! Well, it's all my own fault. If I'd stuck to the
fire-eating and not drinking fire-water I'd be somewhere to-day. Just
ask Bill Watson what sort of an act Ham Logan had--'Coal-fire Logan!'"
exclaimed the man. "That was my title. Hamilton Logan is my name, but I
haven't told any one in--not in a long time," he added, and he looked
away. "But ask Bill Watson about me."

"Here he comes now," said Joe, as he observed the veteran clown
approaching. "Suppose you ask him yourself."

For an instant Ham Logan hesitated. Then he stepped forward and
confronted the old clown. The latter paid no attention at first,
evidently thinking the man one of the many hangers-on about a circus
ground.

"Joe," began Bill Watson, "Helen sent me to ask you if you have any
ammonia in your kit--I mean the kind they give the ladies when their
hearts are weak, or something like that. One of the girls has some kind
of a little spell, and we can't find the doctor."

"Yes, I have some ammonia," said Joe. "I'll get it."

Ham Logan looked Bill Watson in the face, and asked:

"Don't you remember me?"

"Can't say that I do," was the somewhat cool response of the veteran
clown. "Is there any reason why I should?"

"Do you remember Coal-fire Logan?"

Bill Watson started, looked more closely at the man, and then slowly
asked:

"Are you Ham Logan?"

"What's left of m