“This is twice today that you boys have done me a good turn, but this second time far outmatches the first. Will you please come back to the ticket wagon with me.” Then to the menagerie head, who had joined them: “I’d like you to come, too, please, Jones.”
The little group made its way to the ticket office, where the owner first asked for an account of how the beast had made its escape.
“The only man who can tell you that is the roustabout who cleans the animal’s cage. He was gashed by the lion evidently as its escape was being made, and that and very likely a heart stroke killed him quickly. I think perhaps he thought it was near time for the transfer to the arena cage to be made and had unlocked the cage door, and the lion pushed its way out, sir,” said Jones.
The manager was silent for a moment. Then he said:
“No one can know how sorry I am that the man lost his life, but I am thankful that the lion did no other damage, either by starting a great panic or by attacking some one of the audience. As for you boys, I propose to make you a substantial reward.”
“I assure you, sir,” began Garry, “we have no thought of any reward for doing what we did. It was luck on our part that enabled us to lasso him, and we get our satisfaction in knowing that we perhaps saved a great many lives.”
“I hope you will accept something as a recompense for your services. Had the lion done great damage, I would have had to pay out many thousands of dollars,” insisted the owner.
“Let us ask you one question first. Was the workman that was killed a family man?” asked Garry.
“I can tell you that in a minute.” Turning to the ticket seller, he told him to look the man up. A record of all the workers with their home addresses was kept in a card index and in a moment the ticket seller had ascertained that the dead man had a wife living in a small town in New York State.
“Of course we will take care of the widow, as we have every worker insured, and then the management always adds to the insurance,” said the head of the circus.