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cious； or both。 Sometimes they just go to biting and foaming。 You can kill them； but you can't keep them from biting and foaming。 Or they'll go straight stubborn。 They're the worst。 They're the passive resistersthat's what I call them。 They won't fight back。 You can flog them to death； but it won't buy you anything。 They're like those Christians that used to be burned at the stake or boiled in oil。 They've got their opinions； and nothing you can do will change them。 They'll die first。 。 。 。 And they do。 I've had them。 I was learning myself 。 。 。 and I learned to leave the thoroughbred alone。 They beat you out。 They get your goat。 You never get theirs。 And they're time…wasters； and patience…wasters； and they're expensive。〃
〃Take this terrier here。〃 Collins nodded at Michael； who stood several feet back of him； morosely regarding the various activities of the arena。 〃He's both kinds of a thoroughbred； and therefore no good。 I've never given him a real licking； and I never will。 It would be a waste of time。 He'll fight if you press him too hard。 And he'll die fighting you。 He's too sensible to fight if you don't press him too hard。 And if you don't press him too hard； he'll just stay as he is； and refuse to learn anything。 I'd chuck him right now； except Del Mar couldn't make a mistake。 Poor Harry knew he had a specially； and a crackerjack； and it's up to me to find it。〃
〃Wonder if he's a lion dog；〃 Charles suggested。
〃He's the kind that ain't afraid of lions；〃 Collins concurred。 〃But what sort of a specially trick could he do with lions？ Stick his head in their mouths？ I never heard of a dog doing that； and it's an idea。 But we can try him。 We've tried him at 'most everything else。〃
〃There's old Hannibal；〃 said Charles。 〃He used to take a woman's head in his mouth with the old Sales…Sinker shows。〃
〃But old Hannibal's getting cranky；〃 Collins objected。 〃I've been watching him and trying to get rid of him。 Any animal is liable to go off its nut any time； especially wild ones。 You see； the life ain't natural。 And when they do； it's good night。 You lose your investment； and； if you don't know your business； maybe your life。〃
And Michael might well have been tried out on Hannibal and have lost his head inside that animal's huge mouth； had not the good fortune of apropos…ness intervened。 For； the next moment； Collins was listening to the hasty report of his lion…and…tiger keeper。 The man who reported was possibly forty years of age； although he looked half as old again。 He was a withered…faced man； whose face…lines； deep and vertical； looked as if they had been clawed there by some beast other than himself。
〃Old Hannibal is going crazy；〃 was the burden of his report。
〃Nonsense；〃 said Harris Collins。 〃It's you that's getting old。 He's got your goat； that's all。 I'll show it to you。Come on along； all of you。 We'll take fifteen minutes off of the work； and I'll show you a show never seen in the show…ring。 It'd be worth ten thousand a week anywhere 。 。 。 only it wouldn't last。 Old Hannibal would turn up his toes out of sheer hurt feelings。 Come on everybody！ All hands！ Fifteen minutes recess！〃
And Michael followed at the heels of his latest and most terrible master； the twain leading the procession of employees and visiting professional animal men who trooped along behind。 As was well known； when Harris Collins performed he performed only for the elite； for the hoi…polloi of the trained…animal world。
The lion…and…tiger man； who had clawed his own face with the beast…claws of his nature； whimpered protest when he saw his employer's preparation to enter Hannibal's cage； for the preparation consisted merely in equipping himself with a broom… handle。
Hannibal was old； but he was reputed the largest lion in captivity； and he had not lost his teeth。 He was pacing up and down the length of his cage； heavily and swaying； after the manner of captive animals； when the unexpected audience erupted into the space before his cage。 Yet he took no notice whatever； merely continuing his pacing； swinging his head from side to side； turning lithely at each end of his cage； with all the air of being bent on some determined purpose。
〃That's the way he's been goin' on for two days；〃 whimpered his keeper。 〃An' when you go near 'm； he just reaches for you。 Look what he done to me。〃 The man held up his right arm； the shirt and undershirt ripped to shreds； and red parallel grooves； slightly clotted with blood； showing where the claws had broken the skin。 〃An' I wasn't inside。 He did it through the bars； with one swipe； when I was startin' to clean his cage。 Now if he'd only roar； or something。 But he never makes a sound； just keeps on goin' up an' down。〃
〃Where's the key？〃 Collins demanded。 〃Good。 Now let me in。 And lock it afterward and take the key out。 Lose it； forget it； throw it away。 I'll have all the time in the world to wait for you to find it to let me out。〃
And Harris Collins； a sliver of a less than a light…weight man； who lived in mortal fear that at table the mother of his children would crown him with a plate of hot soup； went into the cage； before the critical audience of his employees and professional visitors； armed only with a broom…handle。 Further； the door was locked behind him； and； the moment he was in； keeping a casual but alert eye on the pacing Hannibal； he reiterated his order to lock the door and remove the key。
Half a dozen times the lion paced up and down； declining to take any notice of the intruder。 And then； when his back was turned as he went down the cage； Collins stepped directly in the way of his return path and stood still。 Coming back and finding his way blocked； Hannibal did not roar。 His muscular movements sliding each into the next like so much silk of tawny hide； he struck at the obstacle that confronted his way。 But Collins； knowing ahead of the lion what the lion was going to do； struck first； with the broom…handle rapping the beast on its tender nose。 Hannibal recoiled with a flash of snarl and flashed back a second sweeping stroke of his mighty paw。 Again he was anticipated； and the rap on his nose sent him into recoil。
〃Got to keep his head downthat way lies safety；〃 the master… trainer muttered in a low； tense voice。
〃Ah； would you？ Take it； then。〃
Hannibal； in wrath； crouching for a spring； had lifted his head。 The consequent blow on his nose forced his head down to the floor； and the king of beasts； nose still to floor； backed away with mouth…snarls and throat…and…chest noises。
〃Follow up；〃 Collins enunciated； himself following； rapping the nose again sharply and accelerating the lion's backward retreat。
〃Man is the boss because he's got the head that thinks；〃 Collins preached the lesson； 〃and he's just got to make his head boss his body； that's all； so that he can think one thought ahead of the animal； and act one act ahead。 Watch me get his goat。 He ain't the hard case he's trying to make himself believe he is。 And that idea； which he's just starting； has got to be taken out of him。 The broomstick will do it。 Watch。〃
He backed the animal down the length of the cage； continually rapping at the nose and keeping it down to the floor。
〃Now I'm going to pile him into the corner。〃
And Hannibal； snarling； growling； and spitting； ducking his head and with short paw…strokes trying to ward off the insistent broomstick； backed obediently into the corner； crumpled up his hind…parts； and tried to withdraw his corporeal body within itself in a pain…urged effort to make it smaller。 And always he kept his nose down and himself harmless for a spring。 In the thick of it he slowly raised his nose and yawned。 Nor； because it came up slowly； and because Collins had anticipated the yawn by being one thought ahead of Hannibal in Hannibal's own brain； was the nose rapped。
〃That's the goat；〃 Collins announced； for the first time speaking in a hearty voice in which was no vibration of strain。 〃When a lion yawns in the thick of a fight； you know he ain't crazy。 He's sensible。 He's got to be sensible； or he'd be springing or lashing out instead of yawning。 He knows he's licked； and that yawn of his merely