It was the beginning of the month of May, one year later. The two friends were still boon companions. They had joined the force of canvasmen of the circus and menagerie at Newark, gone with the organization to California, and were now in the mountains of Georgia, where the company was billed to exhibit and perform at the town of Carlin.

Their long train reached the place at three o\'clock in the morning, drew up on a side-track near the circus-grounds, and the canvasmen were gruffly ordered out of their bunks to go to work. Charles and Mason slept opposite each other, and now stood dressing in their rough clothes in the dim light of a dusky oil-lantern at the end of the car.

"Dog\'s life, eh?" Mason said, recalling a remark Charles had made the night before.

"That and nothing else," Charles muttered; "I\'ve had enough, for my part."

"Well, I have, too," Mason admitted, "and I\'m ready to call it off. But I think I ought to stick till we get back to New York."

"I\'m not sure that I ought to go back there," Charles said, in a more guarded tone, as they went down the narrow aisle to the door.

"Oh, I see what you mean," Mason said, "and after all, you may be dead right about it. But what would you do if you called it off right here to-day, as I know you are thinking of doing?"

But, somewhat to his surprise, Charles made no response. It was as if he had not heard the question, so deeply was he absorbed in thought. There was no time for further conversation. The foreman drove them like sheep to the work of unloading the canvas, ropes, and stakes, and the hasty erection of the tents. Seat-building, ring-digging, stake-driving with heavy sledge-hammers, kept them busy till after sunup. Then it was all over. They were permitted to go to the dining-tent set aside for the "razor-backs," as the canvasmen were called, to get their breakfast; and then they were free to sleep or amuse themselves till ten o\'clock, when they were expected to get ready for the street procession. An event was due to-day which occurred only once a month, and that was the payment of wages, so, after breakfast, they joined the string of men waiting their turn at the windowed wagon of the paymaster to get their money. Mason got his first, and Charles found him waiting for him after he had been paid.

"What\'s up now—sleep?" Mason inquired.

"I thought I\'d look around the town," Charles replied. "I\'m tired, of course, but I don\'t feel sleepy."

"I\'ll go with you," Mason smiled. "I\'m trying to get on to your curves. You mystify me to-day. I\'ve never seen you look like you do now. What has happened?"

They were now entering the main street of the town, at the foot of which the circus-grounds were situated. Green hills encircled the place and beyond rose the mountain ranges and towering peaks. The spring air was quite invigorating; the scene in the early sunlight appeared very beautiful and seductive.

"I was going to mention it to you," Charles said. "I ought to have done so sooner. You see, in a way, it concerns my old trouble, and I\'ve been trying to forget that."

"Oh, well, don\'t mention it, then," Mason said, sympathetically. "I know how you feel about it."

"But I must tell you this and be done with it," Charles went on. "Last night as we were loading I heard two of our gang talking on the quiet. It seems that some expert bank robbers are with us, using us as a shield. In fact, they are on the force itself. Telegrams have been sent out, and we may all have to stand an examination such as we went through in New Orleans. That was enough for me. It seemed to me that I got through that last ordeal by the very skin of my teeth. I can\'t answer all those questions again—I simply can\'t. It is different with you. You have a straight tale to tell, but I haven\'t!"

"Where did they think the examination would be made?" Mason wanted to know............