Polly of the Circus | Page 6

ribbons and laces, which he now drew from the pocket of his corduroys. He placed his red and blue treasures very carefully in the bottom of the satchel, and remembered with regret the strand of coral beads which he had so nearly bought to go with them.
He opened the large property trunk by his side, and took from it a laundry box, which held a little tan coat, that was to be Toby's contribution to the birthday surprise. He was big- hearted enough to be glad that Toby's gift seemed finer and more useful than his.
It was only when the "Leap of Death" act preceding Polly's turn was announced, that the big fellow gave up feasting his eyes on the satchel and coat, and hid them away in the big property trunk. She would be out in a minute, and these wonders were not to be revealed to her until the close of the night's performance.
Jim put down the lid of the trunk and sat upon it, feeling like a criminal because he was hiding something from Polly.
His consciousness of guilt was increased as he recalled how often she had forbidden Toby and himself to rush into reckless extravagances for her sake, and how she had been more nearly angry than he had ever seen her, when they had put their month's salaries together to buy her the spangled dress for her first appearance. It had taken a great many apologies and promises as to their future behaviour to calm her, and now they had again disobeyed her. It would be a great relief when to-night's ordeal was over.
Jim watched Polly uneasily as she came from the dressing tent and stopped to gaze at the nearby church steeple. The incongruity of the slang, that soon came from her delicately formed lips, was lost upon him as she turned her eyes toward him.
"Say, Jim," she said, with a Western drawl, "them's a funny lot of guys what goes to them church places, ain't they?"
"Most everybody has got some kind of a bug," Jim assented; "I guess they don't do much harm."
" 'Member the time you took me into one of them places to get me out a the rain, the Sunday our wagon broke down? Well, that bunch WE butted into wouldn't a give Sell's Brothers no cause for worry with that show a' theirn, would they, Jim?" She looked at him with withering disgust. "Say, wasn't that the punkiest stunt that fellow in black was doin' on the platform? You said Joe was only ten minutes gettin' the tire onto our wheel, but say, you take it from me, Jim, if I had to wait another ten minutes as long as that one, I'd be too old to go on a-ridin'."
Jim " 'lowed" some church shows might be better than "that un," but Polly said he could have her end of the bet, and summed up by declaring it no wonder that the yaps in these towns was daffy about circuses, if they didn't have nothin' better an' church shows to go to.
One of the grooms was entering the lot with Polly's horse. She stooped to tighten one of her sandals, and as she rose, Jim saw her sway slightly and put one hand to her head. He looked at her sharply, remembering her faintness in the parade that morning.
"You ain't feeling right," he said uneasily.
"You just bet I am," Polly answered with an independent toss of her head. "This is the night we're goin' to make them rubes in there sit up, ain't it, Bingo?" she added, placing one arm affectionately about the neck of the big, white horse that stood waiting near the entrance.
"You bin ridin' too reckless lately," said Jim, sternly, as he followed her. "I don't like it. There ain't no need of your puttin' in all them extra stunts. Your act is good enough without 'em. Nobody else ever done 'em, an' nobody'd miss 'em if you left 'em out."
Polly turned with a triumphant ring in her voice. The music was swelling for her entrance.
"You ain't my MOTHER, Jim, you're my GRANDmother," she taunted; and, with a crack of her whip she was away on Bingo's back.
"It's the spirit of the dead one that's got into her," Jim mumbled as he turned away, still seeing the flash in the departing girl's eyes.
Chapter III
Polly and Bingo always made the audience "sit up" when they swept into the ring. She was so young, so gaily clad, so light and joyous in all her poses. She seemed scarcely to touch the back of the white horse, as they dashed round the ring in the glare of the tent lights. The other performers went through their work mechanically while Polly rode, for they knew the audience was watching her