" Oh yes," said William carelessly, " he had a dragon all right. There were lots of dragons in the Crusades. He tamed this one and took it about with him—sort of makin' a pet of it."
" But he was fightin' it in the picture I saw," objected the student.
" Yes, he did fight it," conceded William. " He fought it all right. It turned savage on him one day an' bit him an' he had to fight it"—then, wishing to bring the story to a conclusion—" an' it killed him. That's how he died—fightin' his dragon what'd turned savage on him out in the Crusades-----"
" What d'you say they're made of ? " said the redheaded boy, leaning so far over the string that it broke. " Wax ? "
" Yes, wax," said William. " Very good wax. You really couldn't tell the difference between that wax and a real person. It's so nachural."
" It wouldn't feel it if I pinched it, seein' it's wax ? ' said the red-headed boy.
" Course not," said William; " but you'd better not go spoilin' my waxworks or-----"
His warning was too late. The red-headed boy had given Ginger a sharp, experimental nip. With a yell of fury and a clatter of tin trays and saucepans Ginger hurled himself upon him. Henry and Douglas joined the fray. The audience, too, joined the fray except for the student, who went home to consult his history book. William stood in the background and murmured pathetically, " I had 'em made to fight like that. There's speshul machinery inside 'em makin' 'em fight
The Outlaws were holding another meeting in the old barn to discuss the next day's waxwork show.
" I bet they enjoyed this one so much they'll pay to come to the nex' one," said William optimistically.