He crossed the lot, and emerged into the street.
It was moderately dark, there being no moon, and only the light of a few stars to relieve the gloom.
Kit had not taken a dozen steps from the lot when two stout men approached him, both evidently miners.
"That's the kid that prevented my cutting the rope," he heard one say.
"Is he? I saw him with the giant."
"I mean to settle his hash for him," said the first.
Kit saw that he was in danger, and turned to run back to his friends. But it was too late! The first speaker laid a strong arm upon his shoulder, and his boyish strength was not able to overcome it.
"Don't be in such a hurry, kid," said his captor.
"Let me go," cried Kit.
"You belong to the circus, don't you?"