"Go on with your story, Ben, and tell why you ran away and what became
of your Pa," she said, composing herself to listen, really interested in
the child.

"Well, you see, father had a quarrel with old Smithers, and went off
sudden last fall, just before tenting season' was over. He told me he
was goin' to a great ridin' school in New York and when he was fixed
he'd send for me. I was to stay in the museum and help Pedro with the
trick business. He was a nice man and I liked him, and 'Melia was goin'
to see to me, and I didn't mind for awhile. But father didn't send for
me, and I began to have horrid times. If it hadn't been for 'Melia and
Sancho I would have cut away long before I did."

"What did you have to do?"

"Lots of things, for times was dull and I was smart. Smithers said so,
any way, and I had to tumble up lively when he gave the word. I didn't
mind doin' tricks or showin' off Sancho, for father trained him, and he
always did well with me. But they wanted me to drink gin to keep me
small, and I wouldn't, 'cause father didn't like that kind of thing. I
used to ride tip-top, and that just suited me till I got a fall and hurt
my back; but I had to go on all the same, though I ached dreadful, and
used to tumble off, I was so dizzy and weak."

"What a brute that man must have been! Why didn't 'Melia put a stop to
it?" asked Mrs. Moss, indignantly.

"She died, ma'am, and then there was no one left but Sanch; so I run
away."