"I don't understand," he muttered.
"I expect you to remain with this show until the end of the season," said the Colonel grimly.
David pondered this remark for a moment.
"I may not care to stay so long as that—" he began, puzzled by the Colonel's attitude toward him.
"But you will stay," said the other, fastening his gaze on David's chin—doubtless in the hope of seeing it quiver. "If you attempt to leave this show, I will—Well, a word to the wise, young man."
"You don't own this show!" flared David. "And you can't bully me!"
Not a muscle moved in the face of the tall Colonel. In slow, even tones he remarked: "I am not cowardly enough to bully a wretch whom I can hang."
In spite of himself, David shrank from this cold-blooded rejoinder.
"See here, Jenison," went on Colonel Grand, noting the effect of his words, "I have a certain amount of respect for your feelings, because you are a Southerner, as I am. You have pride and you have courage. You are a gentleman. You are the only gentleman at present engaged in this profession, I'll say that for you. There is a probability that you may not be so unique in the course of a week or two. I am already a part owner of this concern. You know that, of course. It is pretty generally known among the performers that I have a creditor's lien on the business. I wish you would oblige me by announcing to your friends that I have taken over a third interest in the show in lieu of certain notes and mortgages. From to-day I am to be recognized as one of the proprietors of Van Slye's Circus. Do you grasp it?"
David, a great lump in his throat, merely nodded.