"That's the boy that was with the giant," said Tarbox.
"Well, he's a smart rider. I never saw the beat of him."
Mr. Spriggins was destined to be still more astonished. Hoops were brought and placed at regular intervals, covered with paper, and the boy rider jumped through each in succession, landing again on the horse's back.
"Did you ever see anything like it before, Mr. Tarbox?" asked the constable.
"No, and I never want to again," said Tarbox, with a growl, though he regarded the boy's performance with as eager curiosity as his companion.
"I think it's beautiful," said Spriggins; "I'm glad we come."
"I dare say you do, as long as I pay the bills," said Tarbox, in a sarcastic voice.
"I don't care anything for it. I only stayed because I didn't want the show people to get the advantage of us."
Robert finished his act, and at his exit was greeted with a storm of applause.
He was followed by the younger boy, Charlie Davis, who went through a similar performance, and was received with similar favor. Young performers generally win the favor of an audience, and their efforts to please are received with considerable indulgence, though on the present occasion this was not needed.
On two reserved seats sat an old gentleman whose seamed face and bleached hair indicated advanced years. By his side sat a man of thirty-five, with a dark face and keen, watchful black eyes, whose expression was not likely to prepossess a stranger in his favor. The lines about his mouth indicated a hard, selfish man, whose thoughts were centred in himself.
This much by way of introduction. I need only add that the first impressions likely to be formed of this man were the correct ones. To the old man who sat at his side, and whom he regarded watchfully, he bore the relation of nephew.
It was perhaps surprising to see at the circus a man as old as Cornelius Richmond, for this was the name of the uncle, but he had been persuaded by his nephew, Hugo, with whom he was travelling, to attend, and, as the only alternative was an evening at a dull hotel, he yielded. But during the first part of the performance he looked on in a listless manner, not seeming interested. Hugo, who was younger, appeared more attentive. But when Robert Rudd bounded into the ring, the old man started, and leaning forward, said quickly, in a tone not free from agitation, "Do you see that boy, Hugo?"