"Why?"

"Because he never was popular. Why, they used to call him Sour Snipper."

It was now announced that the afternoon performance would not go on, and the different people separated to take off their ring dresses and put on their everyday clothes.

Leo was rather slow to make the change. He began to practice around the tent on several turns which as yet were difficult for him to do gracefully.

"You must love to work," growled Snipper on seeing him.

"I love the exercise," returned Leo shortly.

"You won't catch me doing any more of that than I have to."

"I want to become perfect."

"Do you mean to say by that that I am not perfect?" growled Snipper.

"We never get really perfect, Snipper."

"Oh, pshaw! Don't preach to me. Do you know what I think you are?"

"I do not."

"A country greeny with a swelled head."

Leo's face flushed at this. A laugh came from behind the canvas, where other performers were undressing.

"Thanks for the compliment, Snipper. I may be a little green, but at the same time I'll tell you what you can't do."

"What?"

"You can't stunt me. I'll do everything you do, and go you one better."

"Oh, you're talking through your hat," growled Snipper.

"Am I? Take me up and see."

"I won't bother with you, you greenhorn."

"Because you are a braggart and nothing else," retorted Leo, stung by the insolent acrobat's manner.

With a cry of rage, Jack Snipper leaped toward the boy, picking up a heavy Indian club as he did so.

CHAPTER VI.-LEO a.s.sERTS HIS RIGHTS.

At once a crowd of performers surrounded the pair. Very few of them liked Jack Snipper, and they wondered what Leo would do should the gymnast attack the boy.

"Call me a braggart, will you!" roared Snipper.

"Don't you dare to touch me with that club!" replied Leo calmly.

"I'll teach you a lesson!"

And, swinging the Indian club over his head, Jack Snipper made a savage blow at the young gymnast.

Had the stick struck Leo the boy's head would have sustained a severe injury.

But as quick as a flash Leo dodged, and the Indian club merely circled through the empty air.

"For shame, Snipper!"

"Do you want to kill the boy?"

"What harm has he done?"

And so the cries ran on.

"Mind your own affairs!" shouted the maddened gymnast. "I'm going to teach the boy a lesson!"

Again he sprang at Leo.

But now suddenly the Indian club was caught. A dexterous twist, and it went flying out of reach across the dressing tent.

Then, before Snipper could recover, he received a stinging slap full in the face that sent him staggering backward on the gra.s.s.

A shout of approval went up.

"Good for Leo!"

"That's right, boy, stand up for your rights!"

The shout brought Adam Lambert, the general manager, to the scene.

No sooner had he appeared than all the performers walked away. It was against the rules to fight, and every one present was liable to a heavy fine.

With the crowd went Snipper, who rolled over and over until a neighboring canvas-wall hid him from view.

"Who is fighting here?" demanded Lambert severely.

"Jack Snipper attacked me with an Indian club and I knocked him down,"

replied Leo.

"Why did he attack you?"

"Snipper's jealous of the lad," came from behind a side canvas.