The ringmaster, his face very stern and very white, stepped forward to intercept him.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"Man insulted me. Going to lick him," hiccoughed the rowdy, his eyes fixed on the elephant trainer.
"Leave the ring," ordered the ringmaster.
"Me? Guess not! Will I, boys?" he demanded of his special crowd of cronies.
"No, no! Go on! Have it out!"
A good many timid ones arose from their seats. The ringmaster scented trouble.
Stepping squarely up to the drunken loafer, his hand shot out in a flash and caught the fellow squarely under the jaw. He knocked him five feet across the ropes, where he landed like a clod of earth in a heap.
Instantly there was an uproar. The orchestra stopped playing. The manager ran forward and put up his hand.
"We will have order here at any cost," he shouted. "Officer," to the guard at the entrance, "call the police."