Mr. Jeremiah Powers had to curb his impatience. The programme wasn’t going to be changed for him. There were “daring aërial flights” at which the old ladies gasped and the fair damsels shrieked. There were performing dogs at which every one observed, “How cute!” a safe remark which the most critical could not dispute. There were the Alberti Brothers, who bowed whether you applauded or not, and the usual trick elephant who rang for his dinner when the clown told him not to, whereat the old gentlemen who had brought their little boys to enjoy the show laughed most uproariously and asked the doubtful little boys if it wasn’t funny.
And then came Smasher!
The curtain opened once more and the little bronco, meek and gentle, was led out. He was “nothin’ much,” so Texas said; “orter see my Tiger down home.” Texas had been persuaded by Mark to wait and see what else would happen before he ventured down, and so Texas was silent though wriggling anxiously in his seat.
A “gent” in full dress, just like Indian, was leading Smasher by the bridle. Having reached the middle of the ring he released the horse, who hung his head and looked like a poor, sleepy, half-starved little pony that would run from a mouse. Then the gent, who was “Smithers” himself, began thus:
“Now, ladies and gentlemen! We are about to witness the most interesting event of the varied programme of this marvelous and startling show. Behold Smasher, the world-renowned bronco. Now there must be gents in the audience who can ride, gents with sporting blood in their veins, gents who are willing, even anxious to show their skill. Ladies and gentlemen, Smasher challenges the world! Behold him!”
This masterpiece having finished, Smithers folded his arms. Mark was sitting on Texas meanwhile.
“Somebody’ll try it, old man,” Mark protested. “Just keep quiet. He’s not going away yet. It’ll be more fun after he’s thrown somebody—there now!”
The last exclamation of relief came as some one did come forward to try. He was a country yokel in his best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. Having brought his best girl to town, and being secure in his skill with his farm plugs, he strode forward timidly to make a name for himself in Highland Falls forever.
“Ah!” said Smithers, serenely. “One gent has nerve! I knew that America with her sons of freedom could produce one man bold enough to dare this feat.”
The country youth hesitated a moment in front of his mount, while the crowd leaned forward in expectation. Having petted Smasher in a professional way and observed that the horse still hung its sleepy head, the rider summoned all his nerve and straddled the pony. The pony was so small and the man’s legs so long that his toes still touched the sawdust.