"Now listen to me, you young villain," said the tyrant; "I'll force you to do what I want. You get on Greased Lightning's back this very minute."
Little Orion struggled painfully to his feet. A good-natured girl, who stood near, tried to say a word in his favor.
"Don't you forget that he's very young, Ben Holt," she said. "It will be all the worse for you if you are too hard on the little kid."
"I'll thank you not to give me any of your sauce, Susan Jenkins," was the angry reply.
Susan Jenkins, a pretty, slight, fair-haired girl, who went by the graceful name of Ariel in the circus programme, did not venture to say anything further, but in her heart she resolved to give Diana a hint of the true state of the case.
Orion was once more lifted on Greased Lightning's back, and the manager cracking his whip, the beautiful horse began to trot round and round the arena. At first the creature went fairly quietly, and Orion managed to keep his seat. His piteous white face, the black shadows under his eyes, his little trembling hands were noticed, however, by Susan. She kept near on purpose and tried to encourage him by smiles and nods. When he passed close to her he heard her hearty voice saying, "Well done, little chap! You jest stick on and you'll be as right as a trivet."
A strangled sob by way of answer rose in Orion's throat. Alas! he knew only too well that he could not stick on. Louder and faster grew the crack of the manager's whip, and faster and fleeter trotted Greased Lightning. It was impossible for Orion to keep his seat; he had nothing to cling to, nothing to hold on to.
"You will have to do all this before the company to-morrow," called out the manager; "and now, no more of that easy sitting still. You jest scramble to your feet and stand on the 'orse's back."
"I can't! I'll be killed!" cried the child, whose face was white to his very lips.
Crack went the great whip.