At four o'clock the bunch were about to leave when Pole chanced to sight a tent before which a big crowd had collected.
"What's over there, fellows? We haven't been in that tent yet. Let's see what's up!"
Curiosity ruled the day and the bunch trooped over in front of the tent.
"Hump! Nothin' but a horse show!" scoffed Curns, disgustedly, "I'm goin', fellows."
"Hold on, what's he saying?" cried Benz, calling attention to the man on the platform.
The bunch grew attentive.
"Ladles an' gentlemen. Las' but not least we 'ave with us Dynamite, the stubbornest donkey 'at ever lived! No human bein' has ever been able to stick on Dynamite's back fer more than three minutes. To any man who kin ride Dynamite fer ten minutes wid out gittin' thrown, this here management offers the fab'lous sum o' twenty-five dollars! Twenty-five dollars,—tink of it! Jes' fer ridin' Dynamite. 'At's all. Seems easy, don't it? Las' performance Dynamite only throwed three men an' one of 'em had a rib busted. Remember, this management is not responsible fer no injuries or deaths resultin' from ridin' Dynamite. If any man here wants ter tackle Dynamite he comes at his own risk. The show begins in five minutes. Think it over, gents. Here's an easy twenty-five bucks if you want it. But remember,—Dynamite, ain't ever been ridden!"
"By the great hornspoons!" whispered Benz in Pole's ear. "Here's the chance of our lives to have a circus with Judd. Let's get the rube to tackle Dynamite. Of course he'll get thrown but think of the fun of seein' it!"
"But he might get killed or injured!" faltered Pole.
"Nonsense! A man as physically fit as Rube isn't going to get busted up by falling off a donkey. Come on, let's get him to try out Dynamite!"