The name of that young man was Bud Heyland.
Among the multitude that swarmed through the entrance to the tent, which was choked until strong men fought savagely to beat back the mad tide, were three boys who got outside safely on their feet, and, drawing in their breath, broke into a blind but very earnest run that was intended to take them as far as possible from the dangerous spot.
They were Jimmy Emery, Joe Hunt and Fred Sheldon.
The last-named saw the lion make a tremendous bound, which landed him almost at his feet, and Fred was sure it was all over with him; but he did not stand still and be devoured, but plunged in among the struggling mass and reached the exterior of the tent without a scratch.
High above the din and tumult rose the shout of the principal showman:
"Don't kill the lion! Don't kill the lion!"
It was hard to see the necessity for this cry, inasmuch as the danger seemed to be altogether the other way, but the one who uttered the useless words was evidently afraid some of the people would begin shooting at the beast, which was altogether too valuable to lose, if there was any way of avoiding it.
It may be, too, that he believed a general fusillade, when the confusion was so great, would be more perilous to the people than to the lion.
There is reason in the belief that, as some scientists claim, there is a sense of humor which sometimes comes to the surface in certain animals, and the action of the Numidian lion when he broke out tended to confirm such a statement.
He seemed to forget all about the sharp cut he had received across the nose and eyes the moment he was clear of his cage and to enjoy the hubbub he created.