his face with it (it was a hot day), and at the same time walked
past Wallace's back. The look troubled me at the time, for not
only did I see hatred in it, but I saw triumph as well.

"'De Ville will bear watching,' I said to myself, and I really
breathed easier when I saw him go out the entrance to the circus
grounds and board an electric car for down town. A few minutes
later I was in the big tent, where I had overhauled Red Denny. King
Wallace was doing his turn and holding the audience spellbound. He
was in a particularly vicious mood, and he kept the lions stirred
up till they were all snarling, that is, all of them except old
Augustus, and he was just too fat and lazy and old to get stirred
up over anything.

"Finally Wallace cracked the old lion's knees with his whip and got
him into position. Old Augustus, blinking good-naturedly, opened his
mouth and in popped Wallace's head. Then the jaws came together,
CRUNCH, just like that."

The Leopard Man smiled in a sweetly wistful fashion, and the
far-away look came into his eyes.

"And that was the end of King Wallace," he went on in his sad, low
voice. "After the excitement cooled down I watched my chance and
bent over and smelled Wallace's head. Then I sneezed."

"It . . . it was . . .?" I queried with halting eagerness.

"Snuff--that De Ville dropped on his hair in the dressing tent. Old
Augustus never meant to do it. He only sneezed."