Mike and Jim continued to have the care of Billy. After their first experience in trying to kidnap him, described in the last chapter, they never attempted anything of the sort again. As a matter of fact they soon became very much attached to their charges and took a great deal of pride in seeing that they always looked their best, both when they were on parade and when they entered the ring.
A rival circus sent two desperate characters to try and poison Billy because he was drawing all the money and their business was very bad in consequence. Mike caught these two fellows putting paris green in Billy’s salad one night. With the help of Jim he held them both until assistance came and the would-be murderers were turned over to the police.
When the manager heard of this he complimented the keepers on their watchfulness and doubled their pay. Billy was grateful to them too. He forgave the attempt they had made to steal him, and after that they were always good friends.
During the summer the big Circus visited the large cities and towns of most of the western states, going as far west as Denver, Colorado. It then turned eastward once more, and Billy began to feel that he was homeward bound. This made him very happy, for he had not forgotten or ceased to love his old friends at Cloverleaf Farm. While he liked the excitement, high living and luxury of his present life and had become very good friends both with his keepers and with many of the wild animals in the cages whose hard lot he was always trying to make pleasanter, still they were never to him quite like home folks.
There was nobody who took the place of little Dick. He knew by this time that he could never again make so dear a friend. Then there were old Bob, Abbie (the black cat), the bay colt and other horses, Big Red, the fierce bull, and his wives, and—for spice and variety—the thievish old Coon down in the big chestnut, not forgetting Polly Parrot, sharp and snappish though she certainly was. Billy was beginning to think of them all more and more often, and the wish to see them and be with them again was growing greater day by day.
While spending a Sunday in St. Louis late in September, he addressed a letter to his friend Bob at Cloverleaf Farm.
As it presents very clearly his frame of mind at this time, and throws many sidelights on his circus life, it is here given in full.
St. Louis, Mo., Sept. 27, 1908.
Dear Bob and Other Home Friends:—
I hope that you have not been thinking that because I ran away to see the Circus at Springfield without saying good-bye to every one of you I do not care for you. If so, you were never more mistaken in your lives. It cost me a great deal of pain to do as I did. You little know how much real grief I felt the evening before I started when I went around and called on you all. I did not forget how you had taken me in and befriended me when I was poor and hungry and sick and lame and alone, nor was I then nor shall I ever be unmindful of or ungrateful for your great kindness at that time. No, dear Bob and all the rest of you, you made a friend of Billy Whiskers then who will be true to you as long as he lives.