He met the ruffian limping like one disabled. His look was sullen and menacing.
"Give me my knife," he growled.
"I couldn't think of it, my man!" said Achilles blandly. "Evidently you are not old enough to be trusted with a knife."
"I'd like to thrash you!" growled the miner again.
"I've no doubt of it, my friend; your intentions are good, but can't be carried out. And now I have a word to say," he continued, sternly. "Just get out of the lot as fast as your legs can carry you, or I'll serve you worse than I did before."
The ruffian looked toward the ticket stand. He saw several of his friends limping away like himself, looking like whipped curs, and he saw that there was no choice for him but to obey. With a muttered oath and a sullen scowl, he left the grounds.
"Kit," said the giant, "it won't do for me to exercise like this every day. I shall need a second supper."
"You are certainly entitled to one, Mr. Henderson," replied our hero.
CHAPTER XXVI.
KIT IS MADE A PRISONER.
It had been a day of exciting adventure, but so far as Kit was concerned the end was not yet. He performed as usual, but as his second act was over at quarter past nine, he thought, being fatigued, that he would not wait until the close, but go at once to the circus car in which he had a berth, and go to bed.