“Do you want to lose an arm?” shouted the latter, angrily.  “You chump! that animal is a man-eater.”

“I’m only a boy, though, you see?” said Luke, arising and brushing the sawdust from his clothes.  “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Wouldn’t, eh?  Why—­”

“He didn’t, all the same.  Did he, now?  Say, mister, I’m a side show actor just now, but some day I’ll work up to the cages here.  Bet you I can make friends with your fiercest member.”

“Bah! you keep away from those cages.”

“How did you dare to do that?” asked Andy, as the boys came out of the menagerie.

“Why, I’ll tell you,” explained Luke.  “I love animals, and most times they seem to know it.  Once a lion tamer summered at our farm on account of poor health.  He told me a lot of things about his business.  One thing I tried just now.  I’ve got a lot of fine sugar flavored with anise in my pocket.  When I tackled Sultan I had my hand covered with it.  Any wild animal loves the smell of anise.  You saw me try it on their champion, and it worked, didn’t it?”

“You are a strange kind of a fellow, Luke,” said Andy studying his companion interestedly.

“That so?” smiled Luke.  “I don’t see why.  You fancy tumbling.  I’m dead gone on the cages.  We both have our especial ambitions—­say, I haven’t caught your name yet.”

“Andy.”

“All right, Andy.  Going to use your full name on the circus posters, or just Andy?”

“The circus posters are a long way ahead,” smiled Andy.  “But if I ever get that far I think I’ll use my right name—­Andy Wildwood.”

“Eh?  What’s that?  Andy Wildwood!” exclaimed Luke.

Andy was amazed at a sharp start and shout on the part of his companion.

“Why, what now—­” he began.

“Andy Wildwood?  Andy—­Wildwood?” repeated Luke.

He spoke in a retrospective, subdued tone.  He tapped his head as if trying to awaken some sleeping memory.

“Got it now!” he cried suddenly.  “Why, sure, of course.  Knew the name in a minute.”

Luke seized and pulled at a lock of his hair as if it was a sprouting idea.

“You came from Fairville,” he resumed.

“Fairview.”

“Then you’re the same.  Yes, you must be the fellow—­Andy Wildwood, the heir.”

CHAPTER XXIII

FACING THE ENEMY

The young acrobat stared hard at Luke Belding.  He wondered if the embryo lion tamer was crazy—­or had he not heard him aright?

Instantly Andy’s mind ran back to the encounter with Jim Tapp on the streets of Tipton the evening previous.

This made the second time, then, within twenty-four hours that an allusion had been made to the fact that he was “an heir.”

Andy knew of no reason why a sudden mystery should come into his life.  The coincidence of the double reference to the same thing, however, namely, an alleged heirship, struck him as peculiar.