Andy the Acrobat | Page 5

was a big-boned, patient-looking horse.
Across his back was strapped a small platform made of a cistern cover.
This had been cushioned with a folded buggy robe.
Alf Warren dove excitedly into a clump of bushes. He reappeared
triumphantly holding aloft a big hoop. It was wound round and round
with strips of woolen cloth which exuded an unmistakable and
unpleasant odor of kerosene.
"Say! it's going to be just like the circus picture on the side of the post
office, isn't it?" chuckled little Tod Smith.
Ned Wilier took down the fence bars and led the horse out into the
road.
Andy pulled off his coat and shoes. He stowed them alongside a rock
near the fence. Then he produced some elastic bands and secured his
trousers around the ankles.
His eyes brightened and he forgot all his troubles for the time being, as
he ran back a bit.

"Out of the way there!" shouted Andy with glowing cheeks, posing for
a forward dash.
He made a quick, superb bound and landed lightly on the horse's back.
Old Dobbin shied restively. Ned, at his nose, quieted him with a word.
Andy, the centre of an admiring group, tested the impromptu platform.
He accepted a short riding whip handed up to him by Alf Warren with a
truly professional flourish. Andy stood easy and erect, one hand on his
hip. All that seemed lacking was the sawdust ring and a tinselled garb.
"Ready," announced Andy.
All of the group except Ned Wilfer started down the road in the wake
of Alf Warren. The latter carried the hoop in one hand, some matches
in the other.
The mob rounded the highway, purposely selected because it curved,
and disappeared from view.
"Everything all right, Andy?" inquired Ned, strutting about with quite a
ringmaster-like air.
"Yes, if the horse will go any."
"Oh, he'll get up full speed, once started," assured Ned.
It was fully five minutes before an expected signal reached them. From
far around the bend in the road there suddenly echoed vivid shouts and
whistlings.
"Start him up," ordered Andy.
Ned led the horse a few rods and got him to running. Then, dropping to
the rear, he kept pace with the animal, slapping one flank and urging
him up to greater speed.
He fell behind, but kept on running, as Andy, guiding the horse by the

long bridle reins, occasionally gave him a stimulating touch of the light
whip he carried.
Five hundred feet covered, old Dobbin seemed to enjoy the novelty of
the occasion, and kept up a very fair gait.
Rounding the curve in the road and looking a quarter-of-a-mile ahead,
Andy could see his schoolmates gathered around a tree stump
surmounted by Alf Warren, holding the hoop aloft.
Just here, too, for the space of a mere minute Andy could view the
schoolhouse through a break in the timber.
A swift side glance showed the big scholar, Graham, lounging in the
doorway.
Just approaching him from the direction of the village was the old
schoolmaster, Mr. Darrow.
"He has been up to see Aunt Lavinia, that's the reason of the double
recess," thought Andy, his heart sinking a trifle. Then, flinging care to
the winds for the occasion, he uttered a ringing:
"Hoop-la!"
Andy felt that he must do justice to the expectations of his young
friends.
He swung outward on one foot in true circus ring fashion. He swayed
back at the end of the bridles. He tipped thrillingly at the very edge of
the cushioned platform. All the time by shouts and whip, he urged up
old Dobbin to his best spurt of speed.
At the schoolhouse door Mr. Darrow gazed at the astonishing spectacle
with uplifted hands.
"Shocking!" he groaned. "Graham, there goes the most incorrigible boy
in Fairview."

"Yes," nodded Graham with a quaint smile, as Andy Wildwood flashed
out of sight past the break in the timber--"he certainly is going some."
"He'll break his neck!"
"I trust not."

CHAPTER III
DISASTER
Old Dobbin pricked up his ears and kept royally to his task as he
seemed to enter into the excitement of the moment.
Andy had practiced on the animal on several previous occasions.
Lumps of sugar and apples had rewarded Dobbin at the end of the
performances for his faithful services. He seemed now to remember
this, as he galloped along towards the waiting group down the road.
Sometimes Andy had made the horseback somersault successfully.
Sometimes he had failed ignominiously and tumbled to the ground. Just
now he felt no doubt of the result. The padded cushion cover was broad
and steady.
He kept the horse close to the inner edge of the road. The tree stump
upon which Alf Warren stood just lined it.
By holding the hoop extended straight