"You're not much of a walker, you know, Charlie. Still you might have helped us. We got into a fight."
"Where? Who did you fight with?" asked Charlie, his curiosity aroused.
"With a brutal old farmer, who had tied a boy to a tree, and was going to flog him. You ought to have seen how Anak tamed him down. He just took him by the collar, and shook him as a cat would a rat."
"What did he do?"
"He called his dog, a big, ugly brute, named Bruiser. Bruiser's funeral will take place to-morrow."
"I wish I had been with you," said Charlie, in a tone of disappointment.
"If you had, I should have let you do the fighting," said Anak. "Well, Charlie, how are things getting on?"
"Oh, everything is about ready. They've laid out the ring, and are putting up the seats. The bearded lady's sick, and says she shan't appear if she doesn't feel better. But they can spare her better than they could us."
"I don't know," said Robert, smiling. "At any rate, we have harder work to do than she, though we may not get as much money."
"And it isn't as good fun, either," remarked Charlie.