“I never saw anything to equal that!”
“It’s as good as a performance in a circus or a theater!”
The juggling continued, Carl getting down on one knee and also on his back, without making a miss of anything that was in motion.
At the very height of the act came a loud cry from the house.
“Help! help!”
“Look out for Jack Darrow’s dog!”
“The brute is mad!”
The cry was taken up on all sides. The boys and girls looked around in terror.
And well they might, for a few seconds later an ugly-looking bulldog with glaring eyes and mouth dripping with white foam leaped into their very midst.
For an instant he stared at the spectators—the next he turned toward Carl, and with a loud snarl leaped straight for the young performer’s throat.