Goddess of the Free, had been taken ill with colic, and because of too copious draughts of brandy from the flask of Vallerita, the Sorceress of the Lion Cage, was unable to stand on firm ground, much less to retain her uncertain equilibrium upon the top of a shaking and rumbling wagon-float.
Some one suddenly caught Lonely by the shoulder, sharply, and swung him round to the float.
"Want to go on now?"
If there was a note of mockery in the question, it shot wide of Lonely's consciousness.
The boy nodded his head, for the second time too full for utterance.
"Skip in there, then, quick! They 'll fix you up!"
If the man in the derby hat had told Lonely to take his pick of all the Shetland ponies and ride off home with it, he could not have given that wide-eyed and resilient-spirited young adventurer any keener sense of bliss.
The only thorn in his rose of perfect joy was the discovery that he had to be togged up as a young woman. But already it was too late to draw back, for as he entered the many-
