January curled his upper lip ever so little and brayed dismally.
"That's right; I knew you would agree to the sentiment."
"Get away from his head, Master Teddy. The Spanish clown is about to distinguish himself," announced the ringmaster.
Manuel was an agile little fellow. While the announcement was being made he had been taking mental measurement of the beast and deciding upon his course of action.
Ere Teddy had stepped back the Spaniard took a running start, and, with a leap, landed fairly on the back of the donkey.
The latter, taken by surprise, cleared the ground with all four feet and bucked, but the rider had flung his arms about the donkey's neck, clinging with both feet to the beast's body, grimly determined to win that hundred dollars or die in the attempt.
"Go it, January," encouraged Teddy. "Give it to him!
Soak him hard!"
January stood on his hind feet, then on his head, as it were, but still the Spaniard clung doggedly.
By this time the donkey had begun to get angry. He had been taken an unfair advantage of and he did not like it. Suddenly he launched into a perfect volley of kicks, each kick giving the rider such a violent jolt that he was rapidly losing his hold.
"Keep it up! Keep it up! You've got him!" exulted the
Circus Boy.