for another western screen 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