THE
STAR OF THE CIRCUS.
CHAPTER I.
ANAK, THE NORWEGIAN GIANT.
About three o'clock in the afternoon an oddly assorted couple walked through the main street in the manufacturing town of Crampton. One was a man of herculean proportions, fully seven and a half feet high, but with a good-natured face that relieved the fears which he might otherwise have inspired. The other was a boy of fifteen, tall and slender, with a dark complexion and bright eyes. He found some difficulty in keeping pace with his tall companion.
"You're going too fast for me, Anak," he said at last. "Remember, my legs are not quite so long as yours."
The giant laughed—a deep, resonant and not unmusical laugh, and answered: "I'm always forgetting that, Robert. I suppose I ought to walk alone, for I can't find any one to match me."
"See how people are looking at us," continued the boy, glancing quickly back. "There's an army of small boys following us."
"Do you want to see me scatter them?" asked Anak.
"Yes; it will be fun."
The burly giant turned, and assuming a terrific frown, ran back, his long limbs carrying him on at remarkable speed. Instantly the boys, with loud shouts of dismay, broke ranks and scattered in every direction, not daring even to look over their shoulders.