"Good gracious!" ejaculated his simple-minded wife. "I never heard the like. Do let me go to the circus, husband. I should so like to see her."
"You might never come back alive. There's lions, and tigers and wild cats all around. They often break out of their cages and kill a dozen people before they can be stopped."
Mrs. Tarbox turned pale and gave up her idea of going to the circus.
"You'd make a nice meal for a tiger. They're fond of bones," continued the farmer, grimly.
"O, Nathan, don't say another word. I wouldn't go now if I could get in for nothing."
The next day, after a consultation with Squire Price and the constable, Mr. Tarbox concluded that it wouldn't be worth while to obtain a new warrant for the arrest of the giant, as he had reason to believe that Mr. Spriggins would go out of town to avoid serving it. It was hard to give up his cherished scheme of vengeance, particularly as he had already expended a dollar in vain; but there seemed no alternative.
"One thing I can do," he said to himself; "if I can get hold of that boy that was with Enoch I'll give him a thrashing. He trespassed on my grounds, and I saw him laugh when the brute kicked Bruiser. I can manage him, anyway."
There was no afternoon performance at the circus except on Wednesday and Saturday, and Robert and his friend Charlie Davis were at leisure.
"Let's go on a tramp, Charlie," said Robert, after they had eaten dinner.