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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings, by Edgar B. P. Darlington
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings
+
+Author: Edgar B. P. Darlington
+
+Release Date: January, 2001 [eBook #2474]
+[Most recently updated: October 29, 2020]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Greg Berckes
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings
+
+Or
+Making the Start in the Sawdust Life
+
+by Edgar B. P. Darlington
+
+
+Contents
+
+ I THE LURE OF THE CIRCUS
+ II PHIL HEARS HIS DISMISSAL
+ III MAKING HIS START IN THE WORLD
+ IV THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN
+ V WHEN THE BANDS PLAYED
+ VI PROVING HIS METTLE
+ VII MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE ELEPHANTS
+ VIII IN THE SAWDUST ARENA
+ IX GETTING HIS FIRST CALL
+ X PHIL GETS A SURPRISE
+ XI THE FIRST NIGHT WITH THE SHOW
+ XII A THRILLING RESCUE
+ XIII THE DAWNING OF A NEW DAY
+ XIV AN UNEXPECTED HIT
+ XV A STROKE OF GOOD FORTUNE
+ XVI HIS FIRST SETBACK
+ XVII LEFT BEHIND
+ XVIII A STARTLING DISCOVERY
+ XIX TEDDY DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
+ XX THE RETURN TO THE SAWDUST LIFE
+ XXI AN ELEPHANT IN JAIL
+ XXII EMPEROR ANSWERS THE SIGNAL
+ XXIII THE MYSTERY SOLVED
+ XXIV CONCLUSION
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+THE LURE OF THE CIRCUS
+
+
+“I say, Phil, I can do that.”
+
+“Do what, Teddy?”
+
+“A cartwheel in the air like that fellow is doing in the picture on the
+billboard there.”
+
+“Oh, pshaw! You only think you can. Besides, that’s not a cartwheel;
+that’s a double somersault. It’s a real stunt, let me tell you. Why, I
+can do a cartwheel myself. But up in the air like that—well, I don’t
+know. I guess not. I’d be willing to try it, though, if I had something
+below to catch me,” added the lad, critically surveying the figures on
+the poster before them.
+
+“How’d you like to be a circus man, Phil?”
+
+Phil’s dark eyes glowed with a new light, his slender figure
+straightening until the lad appeared fully half a head taller.
+
+“More than anything else in the world,” he breathed. “Would you?”
+
+“Going to be,” nodded Teddy decisively, as if the matter were already
+settled.
+
+“Oh, you are, eh?”
+
+“Uh-huh!”
+
+“When?”
+
+“I don’t know. Someday—someday when I get old enough, maybe.”
+
+Phil Forrest surveyed his companion with a half critical smile on his
+face.
+
+“What are you going to do—be a trapeze performer or what?”
+
+“Well,” reflected the lad wisely, “maybe I shall be an ‘Or What.’ I’m
+not sure. Sometimes I think I should like to be the fellow who cracks
+the whip with the long lash and makes the clowns hop around on one
+foot—”
+
+“You mean the ringmaster?”
+
+“I guess that’s the fellow. He makes ’em all get around lively. Then,
+sometimes, I think I would rather be a clown. I can skin a cat on the
+flying rings to beat the band, now. What would you rather be, Phil?”
+
+“Me? Oh, something up in the air—high up near the peak of the
+tent—something thrilling that would make the people sit up on the board
+seats and gasp, when, all dressed in pink and spangles, I’d go flying
+through the air—”
+
+“Just like a bird?” questioned Teddy, with a rising inflection in his
+voice.
+
+“Yes. That’s what I’d like most to do, Teddy,” concluded the lad, his
+face flushed with the thought of the triumphs that might be his.
+
+Teddy Tucker uttered a soft, long-drawn whistle.
+
+“My, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you? Never thought you were that set on
+the circus. Wouldn’t it be fine, now, if we both could get with a
+show?”
+
+“Great!” agreed Phil, with an emphatic nod. “Sometimes I think my uncle
+would be glad to have me go away—that he wouldn’t care whether I joined
+a circus, or what became of me.”
+
+“Ain’t had much fun since your ma died, have you, Phil?” questioned
+Teddy sympathetically.
+
+“Not much,” answered the lad, a thin, gray mist clouding his eyes. “No,
+not much. But, then, I’m not complaining.”
+
+“Your uncle’s a mean old—”
+
+“There, there, Teddy, please don’t say it. He may be all you think he
+is, but for all the mean things he’s said and done to me, I’ve never
+given him an impudent word, Teddy. Can you guess why?”
+
+“Cause he’s your uncle, maybe,” grumbled Teddy.
+
+“No, ’cause he’s my mother’s brother—that’s why.”
+
+“I don’t know. Maybe I’d feel that way if I’d had a mother.”
+
+“But you did.”
+
+“Nobody ever introduced us, if I did. Guess she didn’t know me. But if
+your uncle was my uncle do you know what I’d do with him, Phil
+Forrest?”
+
+“Don’t let’s talk about him. Let’s talk about the circus. It’s more
+fun,” interrupted Phil, turning to the billboard again and gazing at it
+with great interest.
+
+They were standing before the glowing posters of the Great Sparling
+Combined Shows, that was to visit Edmeston on the following Thursday.
+
+Phillip Forrest and Teddy Tucker were fast friends, though they were as
+different in appearance and temperament as two boys well could be. Phil
+was just past sixteen, while Teddy was a little less than a year
+younger. Phil’s figure was slight and graceful, while that of his
+companion was short and chubby.
+
+Both lads were orphans. Phil’s parents had been dead for something more
+than five years. Since their death he had been living with a penurious
+old uncle who led a hermit-like existence in a shack on the outskirts
+of Edmeston.
+
+But the lad could remember when it had been otherwise—when he had lived
+in his own home, surrounded by luxury and refinement, until evil days
+came upon them without warning. His father’s property had been swept
+away, almost in a night. A year later both of his parents had died,
+leaving him to face the world alone.
+
+The boy’s uncle had taken him in begrudgingly, and Phil’s life from
+that moment on had been one of self-denial and hard work. Yet he was
+thankful for one thing—thankful that his miserly old uncle had
+permitted him to continue at school.
+
+Standing high in his class meant something in Phil’s case, for the boy
+was obliged to work at whatever he could find to do after school hours,
+his uncle compelling him to contribute something to the household
+expenses every week. His duties done, Phil was obliged to study far
+into the night, under the flickering light of a tallow candle, because
+oil cost too much. Sometimes his candle burned far past the midnight
+hour, while he applied himself to his books that he might be prepared
+for the next day’s classes.
+
+Hard lines for a boy?
+
+Yes. But Phil Forrest was not the lad to complain. He went about his
+studies the same as he approached any other task that was set for him
+to do—went about it with a grim, silent determination to conquer it.
+And he always did.
+
+As for Teddy—christened Theodore, but so long ago that he had forgotten
+that that was his name—he studied, not because he possessed a burning
+desire for knowledge, but as a matter of course, and much in the same
+spirit he did the chores for the people with whom he lived.
+
+Teddy was quite young when his parents died leaving him without a
+relative in the world. A poor, but kind-hearted family in Edmeston had
+taken the lad in rather than see him become a public charge. With them
+he had lived and been cared for ever since. Of late years, however, he
+had been able to do considerable toward lightening the burden for them
+by the money he managed to earn here and there.
+
+The two boys were on their way home from school. There remained but one
+more day before the close of the term, which was a matter of sincere
+regret to Phil and of keen satisfaction to his companion. Just now both
+were too full of the subject of the coming show to think of much else.
+
+“Going to the show, Phil?”
+
+“I am afraid not.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“I haven’t any money; that’s the principal reason,” smiled the boy.
+“Are you?”
+
+“Sure. Don’t need any money to go to a circus.”
+
+“You don’t?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“How do you manage it?”
+
+“Crawl in under the tent when the man ain’t looking,” answered Teddy
+promptly.
+
+“I wouldn’t want to do that,” decided the older lad, with a shake of
+the head. “It wouldn’t be quite honest. Do you think so?”
+
+Teddy Tucker shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
+
+“Never thought about it. Don’t let myself think about it. Isn’t safe,
+for I might not go to the show if I did. What’s your other reason?”
+
+“For not going to the circus?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Well, I don’t think Uncle would let me; that’s a fact.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“Says circuses and all that sort of thing are evil influences.”
+
+“Oh, pshaw! Wish he was my uncle,” decided Teddy belligerently. “How
+long are you going to stand for being mauled around like a little
+yellow dog?”
+
+“I’ll stand most anything for the sake of getting an education. When I
+get that then I’m going to strike out for myself, and do something in
+the world. You’ll hear from me yet, Teddy Tucker, and maybe I’ll hear
+from you, too.”
+
+“See me, you mean—see me doing stunts on a high something-or- other in
+a circus. Watch me turn a somersault.”
+
+The lad stood poised on the edge of the ditch, on the other side of
+which the billboard stood. This gave him the advantage of an elevated
+position from which to attempt his feat.
+
+“Look out that you don’t break your neck,” warned Phil. “I’d try it on
+a haymow, or something like that, first.”
+
+“Don’t you worry about me. See how easy that fellow in the picture is
+doing it. Here goes!”
+
+Teddy launched himself into the air, with a very good imitation of a
+diver making a plunge into the water, hands stretched out before him,
+legs straight behind him.
+
+He was headed straight for the ditch.
+
+“Turn, Teddy! Turn! You’ll strike on your head.”
+
+Teddy was as powerless to turn as if he had been paralyzed from head to
+foot. Down he went, straight as an arrow. There followed a splash as
+his head struck the water of the ditch, the lad’s feet beating a tattoo
+in the air while his head was stuck fast in the mud at the bottom of
+the ditch.
+
+“He’ll drown,” gasped Phil, springing down into the little stream,
+regardless of the damage liable to be done to his own clothes.
+
+Throwing both arms about the body of his companion he gave a mighty
+tug. Teddy stuck obstinately, and Phil was obliged to take a fresh hold
+before he succeeded in hauling the lad from his perilous position.
+Teddy was gasping for breath. His face, plastered with mud, was
+unrecognizable, while his clothes were covered from head to foot.
+
+Phil dumped him on the grass beneath the circus billboard and began
+wiping the mud from his companion’s face, while Teddy quickly sat up,
+blinking the mud out of his eyes and grumbling unintelligibly.
+
+“You’re a fine circus performer, you are,” laughed Phil. “Suppose you
+had been performing on a flying trapeze in a circus, what do you
+suppose would have happened to you?”
+
+“I’d have had a net under me then, and I wouldn’t have fallen in the
+ditch,” grunted Teddy sullenly.
+
+“What do you suppose the folks will say when you go home in that
+condition?”
+
+“Don’t care what they say. Fellow has got to learn sometime, and if I
+don’t have any worse thing happen to me than falling in a ditch I ought
+to be pretty well satisfied. Guess I’ll go back now. Come on, go ’long
+with me.”
+
+Phil turned and strode along by the side of his companion until they
+reached the house where Teddy lived.
+
+“Come on in.”
+
+“I’m sorry, Teddy, but I can’t. My uncle will be expecting me, and he
+won’t like it if I am late.”
+
+“All right; see you tomorrow if you don’t come out again tonight. We’ll
+try some more stunts then.”
+
+“I wouldn’t till after the circus, were I in your place,” laughed Phil.
+
+“Why not!”
+
+“Cause, if you break your neck, you won’t be able to go to the show.”
+
+“Huh!” grunted Teddy, hastily turning his back on his companion and
+starting for the house.
+
+Phil took his way home silently and thoughtfully, carrying his precious
+bundle of books under an arm, his active mind planning as to how he
+might employ his time to the best advantage during the summer vacation
+that was now so close at hand.
+
+A rheumatic, bent figure was standing in front of the shack where the
+lad lived, glaring up the street from beneath bushy eyebrows, noting
+Phil Forrest’s leisurely gait disapprovingly.
+
+Phil saw him a moment later.
+
+“I’m in for a scolding,” he muttered. “Wonder what it is all about this
+time. I don’t seem able to do a thing to please Uncle Abner.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+PHIL HEARS HIS DISMISSAL
+
+
+“Where you been, young man?” The question was a snarl rather than a
+sentence.
+
+“To school, Uncle, of course.”
+
+“School’s been out more than an hour. I say, where have you been?”
+
+“I stopped on the way for a few minutes.”
+
+“You did?” exploded Abner Adams. “Where?”
+
+“Teddy Tucker and I stopped to read a circus bill over there on Clover
+Street. We did not stop but a few minutes. Was there any harm in that?”
+
+“Harm? Circus bill—”
+
+“And I want to go to the circus, too, Uncle, when it comes here. You
+know? I have not been to anything of that sort since mother died—not
+once. I’ll work and earn the money. I can go in the evening after my
+work is finished. Please let me go, Uncle.”
+
+For a full minute Abner Adams was too overcome with his emotions to
+speak. He hobbled about in a circle, smiting the ground with his cane,
+alternately brandishing it threateningly in the air over the head of
+the unflinching Phil.
+
+“Circus!” he shouted. “I might have known it! I might have known it!
+You and that Tucker boy are two of a kind. You’ll both come to some bad
+ending. Only fools and questionable characters go to such places—”
+
+“My mother and father went, and they always took me,” replied the boy,
+drawing himself up with dignity. “You certainly do not include them in
+either of the two classes you have named?”
+
+“So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them. They were a
+pair of—”
+
+“Uncle, Uncle!” warned Phil. “Please don’t say anything against my
+parents. I won’t stand it. Don’t forget that my mother was your own
+sister, too.”
+
+“I’m not likely to forget it, after she’s bundled such a baggage as you
+into my care. You’re turning out a worthless, good-for- nothing loaf—”
+
+“You haven’t said whether or not I might go to the circus, Uncle,”
+reminded Phil.
+
+“Circus? No! I’ll have none of my money spent on any such worthless—”
+
+“But I didn’t ask you to spend your money, even though you have plenty
+of it. I said I would earn the money—”
+
+“You’ll have a chance to earn it, and right quick at that. No, you
+won’t go to any circus so long as you’re living under my roof.”
+
+“Very well, Uncle, I shall do as you wish, of course,” answered Phil,
+hiding his disappointment as well as he could. The lad shifted his
+bundle of books to the other hand and started slowly for the house.
+
+Abner Adams hobbled about until he faced the lad again, an angry gleam
+lighting up his squinting eyes.
+
+“Come back here!”
+
+Phil halted, turning.
+
+“I said come back here.”
+
+The lad did so, his self-possession and quiet dignity never deserting
+him for an instant. This angered the crabbed old uncle more than ever.
+
+“When will you get through school?”
+
+“Tomorrow, I believe.”
+
+“Huh! Then, I suppose you intend to loaf for the rest of the summer and
+live on my hard earned savings. Is that it?”
+
+“No, sir; I hadn’t thought of doing anything of the sort. I thought—”
+
+“What did you think?”
+
+“I thought I would find something to do. Of course, I do not expect to
+be idle. I shall work at something until school begins again next fall,
+then, of course, I shall not be able to do so much.”
+
+“School! You’ve had enough school! In my days boys didn’t spend the
+best part of their lives in going to school. They worked.”
+
+“Yes, sir; I am willing to work, too. But, Uncle, I must have an
+education. I shall be able to earn so much more then, and, if
+necessary, I shall be able to pay you for all you have spent on me,
+which isn’t much, you know.”
+
+“What, what? You dare to be impudent to me? You—”
+
+“No, sir, I am not impudent. I have never been that and I never shall
+be; but you are accusing me wrongfully.”
+
+“Enough. You have done with school—”
+
+“You—you mean that I am not to go to school any more—that I have got to
+go through life with the little I have learned? Is that what you mean,
+Uncle?” asked the boy, with a sinking heart.
+
+“You heard me.”
+
+“What do you want me to do?”
+
+“Work!”
+
+“I am working and I shall be working,” Phil replied.
+
+“You’re right you will, or you’ll starve. I have been thinking this
+thing over a lot lately. A boy never amounts to anything if he’s
+mollycoddled and allowed to spend his days depending on someone else.
+Throw him out and let him fight his own way. That’s what my father used
+to tell me, and that’s what I’m going to say to you.”
+
+“What do you mean, Uncle?”
+
+“Mean? Can’t you understand the English language? Have I got to draw a
+picture to make you understand? Get to work!”
+
+“I am going to as soon as school is out.”
+
+“You’ll do it now. Get yourself out of my house, bag and baggage!”
+
+“Uncle, Uncle!” protested the lad in amazement. “Would you turn me
+out?”
+
+“Would I? I have, only you are too stupid to know it. You’ll thank me
+for it when you get old enough to have some sense.”
+
+Phil’s heart sank within him, and it required all his self-control to
+keep the bitter tears from his eyes.
+
+“When do you wish me to go?” he asked without a quaver in his voice.
+
+“Now.”
+
+“Very well, I’ll go. But what do you think my mother would say, could
+she know this?”
+
+“That will do, young man. Do your chores, and then—”
+
+“I am not working for you now, Uncle, you know, so I shall have to
+refuse to do the chores. There is fifty cents due me from Mr. Churchill
+for fixing his chicken coop. You may get that, I don’t want it.”
+
+Phil turned away once more, and with head erect entered the house,
+going straight to his room, leaving Abner Adams fuming and stamping
+about in the front yard. The old man’s rage knew no bounds. He was so
+beside himself with anger over the fancied impudence of his nephew
+that, had the boy been present, he might have so far forgotten himself
+as to have used his cane on Phil.
+
+But Phil by this time had entered his own room, locking the door behind
+him. The lad threw his books down on the bed, dropped into a chair and
+sat palefaced, tearless and silent. Slowly his eyes rose to the
+old-fashioned bureau, where his comb and brush lay. The eyes halted
+when at length they rested on the picture of his mother.
+
+The lad rose as if drawn by invisible hands, reached out and clasped
+the photograph to him. Then the pent-up tears welled up in a flood.
+With the picture pressed to his burning cheek Phil Forrest threw
+himself on his bed and sobbed out his bitter grief. He did not hear the
+thump of Abner Adams’ cane on the bedroom door, nor the angry demands
+that he open it.
+
+“Mother, Mother!” breathed the unhappy boy, as his sobs gradually
+merged into long-drawn, trembling sighs.
+
+Perhaps his appeal was not unheard. At least Phil Forrest sprang from
+his bed, holding the picture away from him with both hands and gazing
+into the eyes of his mother.
+
+Slowly his shoulders drew back and his head came up, while an
+expression of strong determination flashed into his own eyes.
+
+“I’ll do it—I’ll be a man, Mother!” he exclaimed in a voice in which
+there was not the slightest tremor now. “I’ll fight the battle and I’ll
+win.”
+
+Phil Forest had come to the parting of the ways, which he faced with a
+courage unusual in one of his years. There was little to be done. He
+packed his few belongings in a bag that had been his mother’s. The lad
+possessed one suit besides the one he wore, and this he stowed away as
+best he could, determining to press it out when he had located himself.
+
+Finally his task was finished. He stood in the middle of the floor
+glancing around the little room that had been his home for so long. But
+he felt no regrets. He was only making sure that he had not left
+anything behind. Having satisfied himself on this point, Phil gathered
+up his bundle of books, placed the picture of his mother in his inside
+coat pocket, then threw open the door.
+
+The lad’s uncle had stamped to the floor below, where he was awaiting
+Phil’s coming.
+
+“Good-bye, Uncle,” he said quietly, extending a hand.
+
+“Let me see that bag,” snapped the old man.
+
+“The bag is mine—it belonged to my mother,” explained the boy. “Surely
+you don’t object to my taking it with me?”
+
+“You’re welcome to it, and good riddance; but I’m going to find out
+what’s inside of it.”
+
+“You surely don’t think I would take anything that doesn’t belong to
+me—you can’t mean that?”
+
+“Ain’t saying what I mean. Hand over that bag.”
+
+With burning cheeks, Phil did as he was bid, his unwavering eyes fixed
+almost sternly on the wrathful face of Abner Adams.
+
+“Huh!” growled the old man, tumbling the contents out on the floor,
+shaking Phil’s clothes to make sure that nothing was concealed in them.
+
+Apparently satisfied, the old man threw the bag on the floor with an
+exclamation of disgust. Phil once more gathered up his belongings and
+stowed them away in the satchel.
+
+“Turn out your pockets!”
+
+“There is nothing in them, Uncle, save some trinkets of my own and my
+mother’s picture.”
+
+“Turn them out!” thundered the old man.
+
+“Uncle, I have always obeyed you. Obedience was one of the things that
+my mother taught me, but I’m sure that were she here she would tell me
+I was right in refusing to humiliate myself as you would have me do.
+There is nothing in my pockets that does not belong to me. I am not a
+thief.”
+
+“Then I’ll turn them out myself!” snarled Abner Adams, starting
+forward.
+
+Phil stepped back a pace, satchel in hand.
+
+“Uncle, I am a man now,” said the boy, straightening to his full
+height. “Please don’t force me to do something that I should be sorry
+for all the rest of my life. Will you shake hands with me?”
+
+“No!” thundered Abner Adams. “Get out of my sight before I lay the
+stick over your head!”
+
+Phil stretched out an appealing hand, then hastily withdrew it.
+
+“Good-bye, Uncle Abner,” he breathed.
+
+Without giving his uncle a chance to reply, the lad turned, opened the
+door and ran down the steps.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+MAKING HIS START IN THE WORLD
+
+
+The sun was just setting as Phil Forrest strode out of the yard. Once
+outside of the gate he paused, glancing irresolutely up and down the
+street. Which way to turn or where to go he did not know. He had not
+thought before of what he should do.
+
+Phil heard the clatter of Abner Adams’ stick as the old man thumped
+about in the kitchen.
+
+Suddenly the door was jerked open with unusual violence.
+
+“Begone!” bellowed Mr. Adams, brandishing his cane threateningly.
+
+Phil turned down the street, without casting so much as a glance in the
+direction of his wrathful uncle, and continued on toward the open
+country. To anyone who had observed him there was nothing of
+uncertainty in the lad’s walk as he swung along. As a matter of fact,
+Phil had not the slightest idea where he was going. He knew only that
+he wanted to get away by himself.
+
+On the outskirts of the village men had been at work that day, cutting
+and piling up hay. The field was dotted with heaps of the fragrant,
+freshly garnered stuff.
+
+Phil hesitated, glanced across the field, and, noting that the men had
+all gone home for the day, climbed the fence. He walked on through the
+field until he had reached the opposite side of it. Then the lad placed
+his bag on the ground and sat down on a pile of hay.
+
+With head in hands, he tried to think, to plan, but somehow his mind
+seemed unable to perform its proper functions. It simply would not
+work.
+
+“Not much of a start in the world, this,” grinned Phil, shifting his
+position so as to command a better view of the world, for he did not
+want anyone to see him. “I suppose Uncle Abner is getting supper now.
+But where am I going to get mine? I hadn’t thought of that before. It
+looks very much as if I should have to go without. But I don’t care.
+Perhaps it will do me good to miss a meal,” decided the boy
+sarcastically. “I’ve been eating too much lately, anyhow.”
+
+Twilight came; then the shadows of night slowly settled over the
+landscape, while the lad lay stretched out on the sweet-smelling hay,
+hands supporting his head, gazing up into the starlit sky.
+
+Slowly his heavy eyelids fluttered and closed, and Phil was asleep. The
+night was warm and he experienced no discomfort. He was a strong,
+healthy boy, so that sleeping out of doors was no hardship to him. All
+through the night he slept as soundly as if he had been in his own bed
+at home. Nor did he awaken until the bright sunlight of the morning
+finally burned his eyelids apart.
+
+Phil started up rubbing his eyes.
+
+At first he wondered where he was. But the sight of his bag lying a
+little to one side brought back with a rush the memory of what had
+happened to him the evening before.
+
+“Why, it’s morning,” marveled the lad, blinking in the strong sunlight.
+“And I’ve slept on this pile of hay all night. It’s the first time I
+ever slept out of doors, and I never slept better in my life. Guess
+I’ll fix myself up a little.”
+
+Phil remembered that a little trout stream cut across the field off to
+the right. Taking up his bag, he started for the stream, where he made
+his toilet as best he could, finishing up by lying flat on his stomach,
+taking a long, satisfying drink of the sparkling water.
+
+“Ah, that feels better,” he breathed, rolling over on the bank. After a
+little he helped himself to another drink. “But I’ve got to do
+something. I can’t stay out here in this field all the rest of my life.
+And if I don’t find something to eat I’ll starve to death. I’ll go
+downtown and see if I can’t earn my breakfast somehow.”
+
+Having formed this resolution, Phil took up his belongings and started
+away toward the village. His course led him right past Abner Adams’
+house, but, fortunately, Mr. Adams was not in sight. Phil would have
+felt a keen humiliation had he been forced to meet the taunts of his
+uncle. He hurried on past the house without glancing toward it.
+
+He had gone on for some little way when he was halted by a familiar
+voice.
+
+“Hello, Phil! Where are you going in such a hurry and so early in the
+morning?”
+
+Phil started guiltily and looked up quickly at the speaker.
+
+“Good morning, Mrs. Cahill. What time is it?”
+
+“It’s just past four o’clock in the morning.”
+
+“Gracious! I had no idea it was so early as that,” exclaimed the lad.
+
+“If you are not in such a great hurry, stop a bit,” urged the woman,
+her keen eyes noting certain things that she did not give voice to. She
+had known Phil Forrest for many years, and his parents before him.
+Furthermore, she knew something of the life he had led since the death
+of his parents. “Had your breakfast?”
+
+“Well—”
+
+“Of course you haven’t. Come right in and eat with me,” urged the
+good-hearted widow.
+
+“If you will let me do some chores, or something to pay for it, I
+will,” agreed Phil hesitatingly.
+
+“Nothing of the kind! You’ll keep me company at breakfast; then you’ll
+be telling me all about it.”
+
+“About what?”
+
+“ ’Bout your going away,” pointing significantly to the bag that Phil
+was carrying.
+
+He was ravenously hungry, though he did not realize it fully until the
+odor of the widow’s savory cooking smote his nostrils.
+
+She watched him eat with keen satisfaction.
+
+“Now tell me what’s happened,” urged Mrs. Cahill, after he had finished
+the meal.
+
+Phil did so. He opened his heart to the woman who had known his mother,
+while she listened in sympathetic silence, now and then uttering an
+exclamation of angry disapproval when his uncle’s words were repeated
+to her.
+
+“And you’re turned out of house and home? Is that it, my boy?”
+
+“Well, yes, that’s about it,” grinned Phil.
+
+“It’s a shame.”
+
+“I’m not complaining, you know, Mrs. Cahill. Perhaps it’s the best
+thing that could have happened to me. I’ve got to start out for myself
+sometime, you know. I’m glad of one thing, and that is that I didn’t
+have to go until school closed. I get through the term today, you
+know?”
+
+“And you’re going to school today?”
+
+“Oh, yes. I wouldn’t want to miss the last day.”
+
+“Then what?”
+
+“I don’t know. I shall find something else to do, I guess. I want to
+earn enough money this summer so that I can go to school again in the
+fall.”
+
+“And you shall. You shall stay right here with the Widow Cahill until
+you’ve got through with your schooling, my lad.”
+
+“I couldn’t think of that. No; I am not going to be a burden to anyone.
+Don’t you see how I feel—that I want to earn my own living now?”
+
+She nodded understandingly.
+
+“You can do some chores and—”
+
+“I’ll stay here until I find something else to do,” agreed Phil slowly.
+“I shan’t be able to look about much today, because I’ll be too busy at
+school; but tomorrow I’ll begin hunting for a job. What can I do for
+you this morning?”
+
+“Well, you might chop some wood if you are aching to exercise your
+muscles,” answered the widow, with a twinkle in her eyes. She knew that
+there was plenty of wood stored in the woodhouse, but she was too
+shrewd an observer to tell Phil so, realizing, as she did, that the
+obligation he felt for her kindness was too great to be lightly
+treated.
+
+Phil got at his task at once, and in a few moments she heard him
+whistling an accompaniment to the steady thud, thud of the axe as he
+swung it with strong, resolute arms.
+
+“He’s a fine boy,” was the Widow Cahill’s muttered conclusion.
+
+Phil continued at his work without intermission until an hour had
+passed. Mrs. Cahill went out, begging that he come in and rest.
+
+“Rest? Why, haven’t I been resting all night? I feel as if I could chop
+down the house and work it up into kindling wood, all before school
+time. What time is it?”
+
+“Nigh on to seven o’clock. I’ve wanted to ask you something ever since
+you told me you had left Abner Adams. It’s rather a personal question.”
+
+The lad nodded.
+
+“Did your uncle send you away without any money?”
+
+“Of course. Why should he have given me anything so long as I was going
+to leave him?”
+
+“Did you ever hear him say that your mother had left a little money
+with him before she died—money that was to be used for your education
+as long as it lasted?”
+
+Phil straightened up slowly, his axe falling to the ground, an
+expression of surprise appeared in his eyes.
+
+“My mother left money—for me, you say?” he wondered.
+
+“No, Phil, I haven’t said so. I asked you if Abner had ever said
+anything of the sort?”
+
+“No. Do you think she did?”
+
+“I’m not saying what I think. I wish I was a man; I’d read old Abner
+Adams a lecture that he wouldn’t forget as long as he lives.”
+
+Phil smiled indulgently.
+
+“He’s an old man, Mrs. Cahill. He’s all crippled up with rheumatism,
+and maybe he’s got a right to be cranky—”
+
+“And to turn his own sister’s child outdoors, eh? Not by a long shot.
+Rheumatics don’t give anybody any call to do any such a thing as that.
+He ought to have his nose twisted, and it’s me, a good church member,
+as says so.”
+
+The lad picked up his axe and resumed his occupation, while Mrs. Cahill
+turned up a chunk of wood and sat down on it, keeping up a running fire
+of comment, mostly directed at Abner Adams, and which must have made
+his ears burn.
+
+Shortly after eight o’clock Phil gathered his books, strapped them and
+announced that he would be off for school.
+
+“I’ll finish the woodpile after school,” he called back, as he was
+leaving the gate.
+
+“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” retorted the Widow Cahill.
+
+Darting out of the yard, Phil ran plump into someone, and halted
+sharply with an earnest apology.
+
+“Seems to me you’re in a terrible rush about something. Where you
+going?”
+
+“Hello, Teddy, that you?”
+
+“It’s me,” answered Teddy ungrammatically.
+
+“I’m on my way to school.”
+
+“Never could understand why anybody should want to run when he’s going
+to school. Now, I always run when I start off after school’s out. What
+you doing here?” demanded the boy, drawing his eyelids down into a
+squint.
+
+“I’ve been chopping some wood for Mrs. Cahill.”
+
+“Huh! What’s the matter with the bear this morning?”
+
+“The bear?”
+
+Teddy jerked a significant thumb in the direction of Phil’s former
+home.
+
+“Bear’s got a grouch on a rod wide this morning.”
+
+“Oh, you mean Uncle Abner,” answered Phil, his face clouding.
+
+“Yep.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“I just dropped in to see if you were ready to go to school. He yelled
+at me like he’d gone crazy.”
+
+“That all?” grinned the other boy.
+
+“No. He chased me down the road till his game knee gave out; then he
+fell down.”
+
+Phil could not repress a broad grin at this news.
+
+“Good thing for me that I could run. He’d have given me a walloping for
+sure if he’d caught me. I’ll bet that stick hurts when it comes down on
+a fellow. Don’t it, Phil?”
+
+“I should think it would. I have never felt it, but I have had some
+pretty narrow escapes. What did the folks you are living with say when
+you got home all mud last night?”
+
+Teddy grinned a sheepish sort of grin.
+
+“Told me I’d better go out in the horse barn—said my particular style
+of beauty was better suited to the stable than to the kitchen.”
+
+“Did you?”
+
+“Well, no, not so as you might notice it. I went down to the creek and
+went in swimming, clothes and all. That was the easiest way. You see, I
+could wash the mud off my clothes and myself all at the same time.”
+
+“It’s a wonder they let you in at all, then.”
+
+“They didn’t; at least not until I had wrung the water out of my
+trousers and twisted my hair up into a regular top-knot. Then I crawled
+in behind the kitchen stove and got dried out after a while. But I got
+my supper. I always do.”
+
+“Yes; I never knew you to go without meals.”
+
+“Sorry you ain’t going to the circus tomorrow, Phil.”
+
+“I am. Teddy, I’m free. I can do as I like now. Yes, I’ll go to the
+circus with you, and maybe if I can earn some money tonight I’ll treat
+you to red lemonade and peanuts.”
+
+“Hooray!” shouted Teddy, tossing his hat high in the air.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+THE CIRCUS COMES TO TOWN
+
+
+The Sparling Combined Shows came rumbling into Edmeston at about three
+o’clock the next morning. But, early as was the hour, two boys sat on
+the Widow Cahill’s door-yard fence watching the wagons go by.
+
+The circus was one of the few road shows that are now traveling through
+the country, as distinguished from the great modern organizations that
+travel by rail with from one to half a dozen massive trains. The
+Sparling people drove from town to town. They carried twenty-five
+wagons, besides a band wagon, a wild-west coach and a calliope.
+
+“Phil! Phil! Look!” exclaimed Teddy, clutching at his companion’s coat
+sleeve, as two hulking, swaying figures appeared out of the shadows of
+the early morning.
+
+“Where?”
+
+“There.”
+
+“Elephants! There’s two of them.”
+
+“Ain’t that great? I didn’t suppose they’d have any elephants. Wonder
+if there’s any lions and tigers in those big wagons.”
+
+“Of course there are. Didn’t you see pictures of them on the bills,
+Teddy?”
+
+“I don’t know. Dan Marts, the postmaster, says you can’t set any store
+by the pictures. He says maybe they’ve got the things you see in the
+pictures, and maybe they haven’t. There’s a camel! Look at it! How’d
+you like to ride on that hump all day?” questioned Teddy gleefully.
+
+“Shouldn’t like it at all.”
+
+“I read in my geography that they ride on them all the time on
+the—on—on Sarah’s Desert.”
+
+“Oh, you mean the Sahara Desert—that’s what you mean,” laughed Phil.
+
+“Well, maybe.”
+
+“I should rather ride an elephant. See, it’s just like a rocking chair.
+I could almost go to sleep watching them move along.”
+
+“I couldn’t,” declared Teddy. “I couldn’t any more go to sleep when a
+circus is going by than I could fly without wings.”
+
+“See, there comes a herd of ponies. Look how small they are. Not much
+bigger than St. Bernard dogs. They could walk right under the elephants
+and not touch them.”
+
+“Where do they all sleep?” wondered Teddy.
+
+“Who, the ponies?”
+
+“No, of course not. The people.”
+
+“I don’t know unless they sleep in the cages with the animals,” laughed
+Phil. “Some of the folks appear to be sleeping on the horses.”
+
+“I’d be willing to go without sleep if I could be a showman,” mused
+Teddy. “Wouldn’t you?”
+
+“Sure,” agreed Phil. “Hello! There come some more wagons. Come on!
+We’ll run down to meet them.”
+
+“No; Let’s go over to the grounds where the circus is coming off.
+They’ll be putting up the tents first thing we know.”
+
+“That’s so, and I want to be around. You going to work any, Teddy?”
+
+“Not I. I’m going to see the show, but you don’t catch me carrying
+pails of water for the elephants for a ticket of admission that don’t
+admit you to anything except a stand-up. I can stand up cheaper than
+that.”
+
+Both boys slipped from the fence, and, setting off at a jog trot, began
+rapidly overhauling and passing the slow-moving wagons with their tired
+horses and more tired drivers.
+
+By the time Teddy and Phil reached the circus grounds several wagons
+were already there. Shouts sprang up from all parts of the field, while
+half a dozen men began measuring off the ground in the dim morning
+light, locating the best places in which to pitch the tents. Here and
+there they would drive in a stake, on one of which they tied a piece of
+newspaper.
+
+“Wonder what that’s for,” thought Phil aloud.
+
+“Hey, what’s the paper tied on the peg for?” shouted Teddy to a passing
+showman.
+
+“That’s the front door, sonny.”
+
+“Funniest looking front door I ever saw,” grunted Teddy.
+
+“He means that’s the place where the people enter and leave their
+tickets.”
+
+“Oh, yes. That’s what they call the ‘Main Entrance,’” nodded Teddy.
+“I’ve seen it, but I don’t usually go in that way.”
+
+With the early dawn figures began emerging from several of the wagons.
+They were a sleepy looking lot, and for a time stood about in various
+attitudes, yawning, stretching their arms and rubbing their eyes.
+
+“Hey, boy, what town is this?” questioned a red-haired youth, dragging
+himself toward the two lads.
+
+“Edmeston.”
+
+“Oh, yes. I remember; I was here once before.”
+
+“With a show?” asked Teddy.
+
+“Yes, with a Kickapoo Indian medicine man. And he was bad medicine.
+Say, where can I wash my countenance?”
+
+“Come on; I’ll show you,” exclaimed Teddy and Phil in the same breath.
+
+They led the way to the opposite side of the field, where there was a
+stream of water. While the circus boy was making his morning toilet the
+lads watched him in admiring silence.
+
+“What do you do?” ventured Phil.
+
+“I perform on the rings.”
+
+“Up in the air?”
+
+“Uh-huh.”
+
+“Ever fall off?”
+
+“I get my bumps,” grinned the red-haired boy. “My name is Rodney
+Palmer. What’s your names?”
+
+They told him.
+
+“We’re going to be circus men, too,” Teddy informed him, but the
+announcement did not seem to stir a deep interest in the circus boy. He
+had heard other boys say the same thing. “Is it very hard work?”
+
+“Worst ever.”
+
+“When do you sleep?”
+
+“When we ain’t awake.”
+
+“And you perform on the flying rings?”
+
+Rodney nodded his head indifferently.
+
+“I should think you’d burn the tent up with that head of red hair,”
+grinned Teddy.
+
+Instead of getting angry at the boy’s thrust, Rodney glanced at Teddy
+with a half questioning look in his eyes, then burst out laughing.
+
+“You’re a cheerful idiot, aren’t you?” he twinkled. “I’ll tell you why
+I don’t. Confidentially, you know?”
+
+“Sure.”
+
+“I wear a wig when I’m performing. Mebby if it wasn’t for that I might
+set something on fire. I must get over on the lot now.”
+
+“You’re in a lot already,” Teddy informed him.
+
+“We call the place where we pitch the tents ‘the lot.’ The cook tent
+must be up by this time, and I’m half starved. The performance was so
+late yesterday afternoon that they had the cook tent down before I got
+my supper. Will you come along?”
+
+They did.
+
+“Do you think there is anything I could do to earn a ticket to the show
+today?” asked Phil.
+
+“Yes, there’s most always something for a boy to do.”
+
+“Whom do I ask about it?”
+
+“Go see the boss canvasman. I’ll point him out to you as we go along.”
+
+“Thank you. You want to see him, too, Teddy?”
+
+“No; I don’t have to.”
+
+“That’s him over there. He’s a grouch, but just don’t let him bluff
+you. Yes, the cook tent’s about ready. I’ll sneak in and hook something
+before breakfast; then mebby I’ll come back and talk with you.”
+
+“We’ll look for you in the show this afternoon,” said Phil.
+
+“All right, if I see you I’ll swing my hand to you,” Rodney replied,
+starting for the cook tent, where the meals were served to the show
+people.
+
+“Now, I’m going to see that boss canvasman,” announced Phil. “See, they
+are laying the pieces of the tents flat on the ground. I suppose they
+fasten them all together when they get them placed, then raise them up
+on the poles.”
+
+“I guess so. I don’t care much so long as I don’t have to do it.”
+
+“Teddy Tucker, actually you are the laziest boy I ever knew. Why don’t
+you brace up?”
+
+“Don’t I have just as good a time and better, than you do?”
+
+“Guess you do.”
+
+“Don’t I get just as much to eat?”
+
+“I presume so,” admitted Phil.
+
+“Don’t I see all the shows that come to town, and go to all the
+picnics?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Then, what’s the use of being any more’n lazy?”
+
+Teddy’s logic was too much for his companion, and Phil laughed
+heartily.
+
+“Look, the elephant is butting one of the wagons,” cried Teddy.
+
+“No, they are using the elephant to push the cage around in place. I
+wonder what’s in it,” said Phil.
+
+A roar that fairly made the ground shake answered Phil’s question. The
+cage in question held a lion, and a big, ugly one if his voice was any
+indication. The great elephant, when the cage was being placed, would,
+at a signal from its keeper, place its ponderous head against one side
+of the cage and push, while a driver would steer the wagon by taking
+hold of the end of the tongue.
+
+It was a novel sight for the two boys, and they watched it with the
+keenest interest. A man dressed in riding clothes, carrying a short
+crop in his hand, was observing the operations with equal interest. He
+was James Sparling, the proprietor and manager of the Great Combined
+Shows, but the lads were unaware of that fact. Even had they known, it
+is doubtful if Mr. Sparling would have been of sufficient attraction to
+draw their attention from the working elephant.
+
+All at once there was a warning shout from Mr. Sparling.
+
+The men set up a yell, followed by a sudden scurrying from the
+immediate vicinity of the cage that the elephant had been shunting
+about.
+
+“Stop it! Brace it!” bellowed the owner of the show, making frantic
+motions with his free hand, cutting circles and dashes in the air with
+the short crop held in the other.
+
+“What’s the row?” wondered Teddy.
+
+“I—I don’t know,” stammered Phil.
+
+“The elephant’s tipping the lion cage over!” shouted someone. “Run for
+your lives!”
+
+For once in his life Teddy Tucker executed a lightning-like movement.
+He was one of several dark streaks on the landscape running as if
+Wallace, the biggest lion in captivity, were in reality hard upon his
+heels. As he ran, Teddy uttered a howl that could have been heard from
+one end of the circus lot to the other.
+
+A few of the more fearless ones, the old hands of the show, did not
+attempt to run. Instead they stood still, fairly holding their breaths,
+waiting to see what would happen next.
+
+Mr. Sparling was too far away to be able to do anything to prevent the
+catastrophe that was hanging over them, but it did not prevent him from
+yelling like a madman at the inactive employees of the show.
+
+At the first cry—the instant he comprehended what was happening— Phil
+Forrest moved every bit as quickly as had his companion, though he
+leaped in the opposite direction.
+
+All about on the ground lay tent poles of various length and thickness,
+side poles, quarter poles and the short side poles used to hold the
+tent walls in place. These were about twenty feet in length and light
+enough to be easily handled.
+
+With ready resourcefulness and quick comprehension, Phil pounced upon
+one of these and darted toward the cage which was toppling over in his
+direction.
+
+The roof of the lion cage that housed Wallace projected over the edge
+some six inches, and this had caught the keen eyes of the lad at the
+first alarm. His plan had been formed in a flash.
+
+He shot one end of the side pole up under the projecting roof, jammed
+the other end into the ground, throwing his whole weight upon the foot
+of the pole to hold it in place.
+
+For an instant the tent pole bent like a bow under the pull of the
+archer. It seemed as if it must surely snap under the terrific strain.
+
+Phil saw this, too. Now that the foot of the pole was firmly imbedded
+in the ground, there was no further need for him to hold it down. He
+sprang under the pole with the swaying cage directly over him, grabbed
+the pole at the point where it was arching so dangerously, and pulling
+himself from the ground, held to the slippery stick desperately.
+
+Light as he was the boy’s weight saved the pole. It bent no further.
+
+The cage swayed from side to side, threatening to topple over at one
+end or the other.
+
+“Get poles under the ends,” shouted the boy in a shrill voice. “I can’t
+hold it here all day.”
+
+“Get poles, you lazy good-for-nothings!” bellowed the owner. “Brace
+those ends. Look out for the elephant. Don’t you see he’s headed for
+the cage again?”
+
+Orders flew thick and fast, but through it all Phil Forrest hung grimly
+to the side pole, taking a fresh overhand hold, now and then, as his
+palms slipped down the painted stick.
+
+Now that he had shown the way, others sprang to his assistance. Half a
+dozen poles were thrust up under the roof and the cage began slowly
+settling back the other way.
+
+“Hadn’t you better have some poles braced against the other side, sir?”
+suggested Phil, touching his hat to Mr. Sparling, who, he had
+discovered, was some person in authority. “The cage may tip clear over
+on the other side, or it may drop so heavily on the wheels as to break
+the axles.”
+
+“Right. Brace the off side. That’s right. Now let it down slowly. Not
+so hard on the nigh side there. Ease off there, Bill. Push, Patsy. What
+do you think this is—a game of croquet? There you go. Right. Now let’s
+see if you woodenheads know enough to keep the wagon right side up.”
+
+Mr. Sparling took off his hat and wiped the perspiration from his
+forehead, while Phil stood off calmly surveying the men who were
+straightening the wagon, but with more caution than they had exercised
+before.
+
+“Come here, boy.”
+
+Someone touched Phil on the arm.
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“Boss wants to speak to you.”
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Boss Sparling, the fellow over there with the big voice and the
+sombrero.”
+
+Phil walked over and touched his hat to Mr. Sparling.
+
+The showman looked the lad over from head to foot.
+
+“What’s your name?” He shot the question at the lad as if angry about
+something, and he undoubtedly was.
+
+“Phil Forrest.”
+
+“Do they grow your kind around here?”
+
+“I can’t say, sir.”
+
+“If they do, I’d like to hire a dozen or more of them. You’ve got more
+sense than any boy of your age I ever saw. How old are you?”
+
+“Sixteen.”
+
+“Huh! I wish I had him!” growled Mr. Sparling. “What do you want?”
+
+“I should like to have a chance to earn a pass to the show this
+afternoon. Rodney Palmer said the boss canvasman might give me a chance
+to earn one.”
+
+“Earn one? Earn one?” Mr. Sparling’s voice rose to a roar again. “What
+in the name of Old Dan Rice do you think you’ve been doing? Here you’ve
+kept a cage with a five-thousand-dollar lion from tipping over, to say
+nothing of the people who might have been killed had the brute got out,
+and you want to know how you can earn a pass to the show? What d’ye
+think of that?” and the owner appealed helplessly to an assistant who
+had run across the lot, having been attracted to the scene by the
+uproar.
+
+The assistant grinned.
+
+“He’s too modest to live.”
+
+“Pity modesty isn’t more prevalent in this show, then. How many do you
+want? Have a whole section if you say the word.”
+
+“How many are there in a section?” asked Phil.
+
+“ ’Bout a hundred seats.”
+
+Phil gasped.
+
+“I—I guess two will be enough,” he made answer.
+
+“Here you are,” snapped the owner, thrusting a card at the lad, on
+which had been scribbled some characters, puzzling to the uninitiated.
+“If you want anything else around this show you just ask for it, young
+man. Hey, there! Going to be all day getting that canvas up? Don’t you
+know we’ve got a parade coming along in a few hours?”
+
+Phil Forrest, more light of heart than in many days, turned away to
+acquaint his companion of his good fortune. Teddy Tucker was making his
+way cautiously back to the scene of the excitement of a few moments
+before.
+
+“Did he get away?” Teddy questioned, ready to run at the drop of the
+hat should the danger prove to be still present.
+
+“Who, the manager?”
+
+“No, the lion.”
+
+“He’s in the cage where he’s been all the time. They haven’t opened it
+yet, but I guess he’s all right. Say, Teddy!”
+
+“Say it.”
+
+“I’ve got a pass to the show for two people for both performances—this
+afternoon and tonight.”
+
+The interest that the announcement brought to Teddy’s eyes died away
+almost as soon as it appeared.
+
+“Going?”
+
+“Am I going? I should say so. Want to go in with me on my pass, Teddy?”
+
+The lad hitched his trousers, took a critical squint at the canvas that
+was slowly mounting the center pole to the accompaniment of creaking
+ropes, groaning tackle and confused shouting.
+
+“They’re getting the menagerie tent up. I’ll bet it’s going to be a
+dandy show,” he vouchsafed. “How’d you get the tickets?”
+
+“Manager gave them to me.”
+
+“What for?”
+
+“I did a little work for him. Helped get the lion’s cage straightened
+up. How about it—are you going in on my pass?”
+
+“N-o-o,” drawled Teddy. “Might get me into bad habits to go in on a
+pass. I’d rather sneak in under the tent when the boss isn’t looking.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+WHEN THE BANDS PLAYED
+
+
+Phil started for the Widow Cahill’s on the run after having procured
+his tickets. “Here’s a ticket for the circus, Mrs. Cahill,” he shouted,
+bursting into the room, with excited, flushed face.
+
+“What’s this you say—the circus? Land sakes, I haven’t seen one since I
+was—well, since I was a girl. I don’t know.”
+
+“You’ll go, won’t you?” urged Phil.
+
+“Of course, I’ll go,” she made haste to reply, noting the
+disappointment in his face over her hesitation. “And thank you very
+much.”
+
+“Shall I come and get you, Mrs. Cahill, or can you get over to the
+circus grounds alone?”
+
+“Don’t worry about me, my boy. I’ll take care of myself.”
+
+“Your seat will be right next to mine, and we can talk while we are
+watching the performers.”
+
+“Yes; you run along now. Here’s a quarter for spending money. Never
+mind thanking me. Just take it and have a good time. Where’s your
+friend?”
+
+“Teddy?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Over on the lot.”
+
+“He going in with you, too?”
+
+“Oh, no. Teddy is too proud to go in that way. He crawls in under the
+tent,” laughed Phil, running down the steps and setting off for the
+circus grounds with all speed.
+
+When he arrived there he saw at once that something was going on. The
+tents were all in place, the little white city erected with as much
+care and attention to detail as if the show expected to remain in
+Edmeston all summer. The lad could scarcely make himself believe that,
+only a few hours before, this very lot had been occupied by the birds
+alone. It was a marvel to him, even in after years, when he had become
+as thoroughly conversant with the details of a great show as any man in
+America.
+
+Just now there was unusual activity about the grounds. Men in gaudy
+uniforms, clowns in full makeup, and women with long glistening trains,
+glittering with spangles from head to feet, were moving about, while
+men were decorating the horses with bright blankets and fancy
+headdress.
+
+“What are they going to do?” asked Phil of a showman.
+
+“Going to parade.”
+
+“Oh, yes, that’s so; I had forgotten about that.”
+
+“Hello, boy—I’ve forgotten your name—”
+
+“Forrest,” explained Phil, turning. The speaker was Mr. Sparling’s
+assistant, whom the lad had seen just after saving the lion cage from
+turning over.
+
+“Can you blow a horn as well as you can stop a wagon?”
+
+“Depends upon what kind of a horn. I think I can make as much noise on
+a fish horn as anyone else.”
+
+“That’ll do as well as anything else. Want to go in the parade?”
+
+“I’d love to!” The color leaped to the cheeks of Phil Forrest and a
+sparkle to his eyes. This was going beyond his fondest dreams.
+
+The assistant motioned to a clown.
+
+“Fix this boy up in some sort of a rig. I’m going to put him in the
+Kazoo Band. Bring him back here when he is ready. Be quick.”
+
+A long, yellow robe was thrown about the boy, a peaked cap thrust on
+his head, after which a handful of powder was slapped on his face and
+rubbed down with the flat of the clown’s hand. The fine dust got into
+the lad’s nostrils and throat, causing him to sneeze until the tears
+rolled down his cheeks, streaking his makeup like a freshet through a
+plowed field.
+
+“Good,” laughed the clown. “That’s what your face needs. You’d make a
+good understudy for Chief Rain-In-The-Face. Now hustle along.”
+
+Phil picked up the long skirts and ran full speed to the place where
+the assistant had been standing. There he waited until the assistant
+returned from a journey to some other part of the lot.
+
+“That’s right; you know how to obey orders,” he nodded. “That’s a good
+clown makeup. Did Mr. Miaco put those streaks on your face?”
+
+“No, I sneezed them there,” answered Phil, with a sheepish grin.
+
+The assistant laughed heartily. Somehow, he had taken a sudden liking
+to this boy.
+
+“Do you live at home, Forrest?”
+
+“No; I have no home now.”
+
+“Here’s a fish horn. Now get up in the band wagon—no, not the big one,
+I mean the clowns’ band wagon with the hayrack on it. When the parade
+starts blow your confounded head off if you want to. Make all the noise
+you can. You’ll have plenty of company. When the parade breaks up, just
+take off your makeup and turn it over to Mr. Miaco.”
+
+“You mean these clothes?”
+
+“Yes. They’re a part of the makeup. You’ll have to wash the makeup off
+your face. I don’t expect you to return the powder to us,” grinned the
+assistant humorously.
+
+The clowns were climbing to the hayrack. A bugle had blown as a signal
+that the parade was ready to move. Phil had not seen Teddy Tucker since
+returning to the lot. He did not know where the boy was, but he was
+quite sure that Teddy was not missing any of the fun. Tucker had been
+around circuses before, and knew how to make the most of his
+opportunities. And he was doing so now.
+
+“Ta ra, ta ra, ta ra!” sang the bugle.
+
+Crash! answered the cymbals and the bass drums. The snare drums buzzed
+a long, thrilling roll; then came the blare of the brass as the whole
+band launched into a lively tune such as only circus bands know how to
+play.
+
+The parade had begun to move.
+
+It was a thrilling moment—the moment of all moments of Phil Forrest’s
+life.
+
+The clowns’ wagon had been placed well back in the line, so as not to
+interfere with the music of the band itself. But Phil did not care
+where he was placed. He only knew that he was in a circus parade, doing
+his part with the others, and that, so far as anyone knew, he was as
+much a circus man as any of them.
+
+As the cavalcade drew out into the main street and straightened away,
+Phil was amazed to see what a long parade it was. It looked as if it
+might reach the whole length of the village.
+
+The spring sun was shining brightly, lighting up the line, transforming
+it into a moving, flashing, brilliant ribbon of light and color.
+
+“Splendid!” breathed the boy, removing the fish horn from his lips for
+a brief instant, then blowing with all his might again.
+
+As the wagons moved along he saw many people whom he knew. As a matter
+of fact, Phil knew everyone in the village, but there were hundreds of
+people who had driven in from the farms whom he did not know. Nor did
+anyone appear to recognize him.
+
+“If they only knew, wouldn’t they be surprised?” chuckled the lad.
+“Hello, there’s Mrs. Cahill.”
+
+The widow was standing on her front door step with a dishtowel in one
+hand.
+
+In the excess of his excitement, Phil stood up, waving his horn and
+yelling.
+
+She heard him—as everybody else within a radius of a quarter of a mile
+might have—and she recognized the voice. Mrs. Cahill brandished the
+dishtowel excitedly.
+
+“He’s a fine boy,” she glowed. “And he’s having the first good time
+he’s had in five years.”
+
+The Widow Cahill was right. For the first time in all these years,
+since the death of his parents, Phil Forrest was carefree and perfectly
+happy.
+
+The clowns on the wagon with him were uproariously funny. When the
+wagon stopped now and then, one whom Phil recognized as the head clown,
+Mr. Miaco, would spring to the edge of the rack and make a stump speech
+in pantomime, accompanied by all the gestures included in the pouring
+and drinking of a glass of water. So humorous were the clown’s antics
+that the spectators screamed with laughter.
+
+Suddenly the lad espied that which caused his own laughter to die away,
+and for the moment he forgot to toot the fish horn. The parade was
+passing his former home, and there, standing hunched forward, leaning
+on his stick and glaring at the procession from beneath bushy eyebrows,
+stood Phil’s uncle, Abner Adams.
+
+Phil’s heart leaped into his throat; at least that was the sensation
+that he experienced.
+
+“I—I hope he doesn’t know me,” muttered the lad, shrinking back a
+little. “But I’m a man now. I don’t care. He’s driven me out and he has
+no right to say a thing.”
+
+The lad lost some of his courage, however, when the procession halted,
+and he found that his wagon was directly in front of Mr. Adams’
+dooryard, with his decrepit uncle not more than twenty feet away from
+him. The surly, angry eyes of Abner Adams seemed to be burning through
+Phil’s makeup, and the lad instinctively shrank back ever so little.
+
+However, at that instant the boy’s attention was attracted to another
+part of the wagon. The head clown stepped from the wagon and, with
+dignified tread, approached Abner Adams. He grasped the old man by the
+hand, which he shook with great warmth, making a courtly bow.
+
+At first Abner Adams was too surprised to protest. Then, uttering an
+angry snarl, he threw the clown off, making a vicious pass at him with
+his heavy stick.
+
+The clown dodged the blow, and made a run for the wagon, which was now
+on the move again.
+
+Phil breathed a sigh of relief. The people had roared at the funny
+sight of the clown shaking hands with the crabbed old man; but to Phil
+Forrest there had been nothing of humor in it. The sight of his uncle
+brought back too many unhappy memories.
+
+The lad soon forgot his depression, however, in the rapid changes that
+followed each other in quick succession as on a moving- picture film.
+
+Reaching the end of the village street the procession was obliged to
+turn and retrace its steps over the same ground until it reached the
+business part of the town, where it would turn off and pass through
+some of the side streets.
+
+Now there were two lines, moving in opposite directions. This was of
+interest to Phil, enabling him, as it did, to get a good look at the
+other members of the troupe. Mr. Sparling was riding ahead in a
+carriage drawn by four splendid white horses, driven by a coachman
+resplendent in livery and gold lace, while the bobbing plumes on the
+heads of the horses added to the impressiveness of the picture.
+
+“I’d give anything in the world to be able to ride in a carriage like
+that,” decided Phil. “Maybe someday I shall. We’ll see.”
+
+Now came the elephants, lumbering along on velvet feet. On the second
+one there crouched a figure that somehow seemed strangely familiar to
+Phil Forrest. The figure was made up to represent a huge frog.
+
+A peculiar gesture of one of the frog’s legs revealed the identity of
+the figure beneath the mask.
+
+“Teddy!” howled Phil.
+
+“Have a frog’s leg,” retorted Teddy, shaking one of them vigorously at
+the motley collection of clowns.
+
+“Not eating frogs legs today,” jeered a clown, as Teddy went swinging
+past them, a strange, grotesque figure on the back of the huge, hulking
+beast.
+
+The clowns’ wagon was just on the point of turning when the men heard a
+loud uproar far down the line. At first they thought it was a part of
+the show, but it soon became apparent that something was wrong.
+
+Phil instinctively let the horn fall away from his lips. He peered
+curiously over the swaying line to learn what, if anything, had gone
+wrong.
+
+He made out the cause of the trouble almost at once. A pony with a
+woman on its back had broken from the line, and was plunging toward
+them at a terrific pace. She appeared to have lost all control of the
+animal, and the pony, which proved to be an ugly broncho, was bucking
+and squealing as it plunged madly down the street.
+
+The others failed to see what Phil had observed almost from the first.
+The bit had broken in the mouth of the broncho and the reins hung
+loosely in the woman’s helpless hands.
+
+They were almost up with the clowns’ wagon when the woman was seen to
+sway dizzily in her saddle, as the leather slipped beneath her. Then
+she plunged headlong to the ground.
+
+Instead of falling in a heap, the circus woman, with head dragging,
+bumping along the ground, was still fast to the pony.
+
+“Her foot is caught in the stirrup!” yelled half a dozen men at once,
+but not a man of them made an effort to rescue her. Perhaps this was
+because none of the real horsemen of the show were near enough to do
+so.
+
+Mr. Sparling, however, at the first alarm, had leaped from his
+carriage, and, thrusting a rider from his mount, sprang into the saddle
+and came tearing down the line in a cloud of dust. He was bearing down
+on the scene at express train speed.
+
+“The woman will be killed!”
+
+“Stop him! Stop him!”
+
+“Stop him yourself!”
+
+But not a man made an effort to do anything.
+
+It had all occurred in a few seconds, but rapidly as the events
+succeeded each other, Phil Forrest seemed to be the one among them who
+retained his presence of mind.
+
+He fairly launched himself into the air as the ugly broncho shot
+alongside the clowns’ wagon.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+PROVING HIS METTLE
+
+
+Familiar as they were with daring deeds, those of the circus people who
+witnessed Phil Forrest’s dive gasped.
+
+They expected to see the boy fall beneath the feet of the plunging
+pony, where he would be likely to be trampled and kicked to death.
+
+But Phil had looked before he leaped. He had measured his distance
+well—had made up his mind exactly what he was going to do, or rather
+what he was going to try to do.
+
+The pony, catching a brief glimpse of the dark figure that was being
+hurled through the air directly toward him, made a swift leap to one
+side. But the animal was not quick enough. The boy landed against the
+broncho with a jolt that nearly knocked the little animal over, while
+to Phil the impact could not have been much more severe, it seemed to
+him, had he collided with a locomotive.
+
+“Hang on!” howled a voice from the wagon.
+
+That was exactly what he intended to do.
+
+The cloud of dust, with Mr. Sparling in the center of it, had not
+reached them, but his keen eyes already had observed what was going on.
+
+“G-g-g-grab the woman!” shouted Phil.
+
+His left arm had been thrown about the broncho’s neck, while his right
+hand was groping frantically for the animal’s nose. But during all this
+time the pony was far from idle. He was plunging like a ship in a gale,
+cracking the whip with Phil Forrest until it seemed as if every bone in
+the lad’s body would be broken. He could hear his own neck snap with
+every jerk.
+
+With a howl Miaco, the head clown, launched himself from the wagon,
+too. Darting in among the flying hoofs—there seemed to be a score of
+them—he caught the woman, jerked her foot free of the stirrup and
+dragged her quickly from her perilous position.
+
+“She’s free. Let go!” he roared to the boy holding the pony.
+
+But by this time Phil had fastened his right hand on the pony’s
+nostrils, and with a quick pressure shut off the animal’s wind. He had
+heard the warning cry. The lad’s grit had been aroused, however, and he
+was determined that he would not let go until he should have conquered
+the fighting broncho.
+
+With a squeal of rage, the pony leaped sideways. A deep ditch led along
+by the side of the road, but this the enraged animal had not noticed.
+Into it he went, kicking and fighting, pieces of Phil’s yellow robe
+streaming from his hoofs.
+
+The lad’s body was half under the neck of the pony, but he was clinging
+to the neck and the nose of the beast with desperate courage.
+
+“Get the boy out of there!” thundered Mr. Sparling, dashing up and
+leaping from his pony. “Want to let him be killed?”
+
+By this time others had ridden up, and some of the real horsemen in the
+outfit sprang off and rushed to Phil Forrest’s assistance. Ropes were
+cast over the flying hoofs before the men thought it wise to get near
+them. Then they hauled Phil out, very much the worse for wear.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Sparling’s carriage had driven up and he was
+helping the woman in.
+
+“Is the boy hurt?” he called.
+
+“No, I’m all right, thank you,” answered Phil, smiling bravely, though
+he was bruised from head to foot and his clothing hung in tatters. His
+peaked clown’s cap someone picked up in a field over the fence and
+returned to him. That was about all that was left of Phil Forrest’s
+gaudy makeup, save the streaks on his face, which by now had become
+blotches of white and red.
+
+The clowns picked him up and boosted him to the wagon, jabbering like a
+lot of sparrows perched on a telephone wire.
+
+“See you later!” shouted the voice of Mr. Sparling as he drove rapidly
+away.
+
+Phil found his horn, and despite his aches and pains he began blowing
+it lustily. The story of his brave rescue had gone on ahead, however,
+and as the clowns’ wagon moved on it was greeted by tremendous
+applause.
+
+The onlookers had no difficulty in picking out the boy who had saved
+the woman’s life, and somehow the word had been passed around as to his
+identity.
+
+“Hooray for Phil Forrest!” shouted the multitude.
+
+Phil flushed under the coating of powder and paint, and sought to
+crouch down in the wagon out of sight.
+
+“Here, get up there where they can see you!” admonished a clown. “If
+you’re going to be a showman you mustn’t be afraid to get yourself in
+the spotlight.”
+
+Two of them hoisted the blushing Phil to their shoulders and broke into
+a rollicking song, swaying their bodies in imitation of the movements
+of an elephant as they sang.
+
+At this the populace fairly howled with delight.
+
+“He’s the boy, even if he ain’t purty to look at,” jeered someone in
+the crowd.
+
+“Handsome is as handsome does!” retorted a clown in a loud voice, and
+the people cheered.
+
+After this the parade went on without further incident, though there
+could be no doubt that the exciting dash and rescue by one of their own
+boys had aroused the town to a high pitch of excitement. And the
+showmen smiled, for they knew what that meant.
+
+“Bet we’ll have a turn-away this afternoon,” announced a clown.
+
+“Looks that way,” agreed another, “and all on account of the kid.”
+
+“What’s a turn-away?” asked Phil.
+
+“That’s when there are more people want to get in than the tent will
+hold. And it means, too, that the boss will be good natured till it
+rains again, and the wagons get stuck in the mud so that we’ll make the
+next town behind time. At such times he can make more noise than the
+steam calliope.”
+
+“He seems to me to be a pretty fine sort of a man, even if he is
+gruff,” suggested Phil.
+
+“The best ever,” agreed several clowns. “You’ll look a long way before
+you’ll find a better showman, or a better man to his help, than Jim
+Sparling. Ever been in the show business, kid?”
+
+Phil shook his head.
+
+“Anybody’d think you always had been, the way you take hold of things.
+I’ll bet you’ll be in it before you are many years older.”
+
+“I’d like to,” glowed the lad.
+
+“Ask the boss.”
+
+“No, he wouldn’t want me. There is nothing I could do now, I guess.”
+
+Further conversation was interrupted by the bugle’s song announcing the
+disbanding of the parade, the right of the line having already reached
+the circus lot.
+
+The clowns piled from the hayrack like a cataract, the cataract having
+all the colors of the rainbow.
+
+Phil, not to be behind, followed suit, though he did not quite
+understand what the rush was about. He ran until he caught up with
+Miaco.
+
+“What’s the hurry about?” he questioned.
+
+“Parade’s over. Got to hurry and get dinner, so as to be ready for the
+afternoon performance.”
+
+All hands were heading for the dressing tent in a mad rush.
+
+Phil was halted by the assistant manager.
+
+The lad glanced down rather sheepishly at his costume, which was
+hanging in tatters, then up at the quizzically smiling face of the
+showman.
+
+“I—I’m sorry I’ve spoiled it, sir, but I couldn’t help it.”
+
+“Don’t worry about that, young man. How did it happen?” he questioned,
+pretending not to know anything about the occurrence in which Phil had
+played a leading part.
+
+“Well, you see, there was a horse ran away, and I happened to get in
+the way of it. I—”
+
+“Yes, Forrest, I understand all about it. Somebody did something to
+that animal to make it run away and the boss is red headed over it.”
+
+“I—I didn’t.”
+
+“No, that’s right. It was lucky that there was one person in the parade
+who had some sense left, or there would have been a dead woman with
+this outfit,” growled the assistant.
+
+“Was she badly hurt?”
+
+“No. Only bruised up a bit. These show people get used to hard knocks.”
+
+“I’m glad she is all right. Who is she?”
+
+“Don’t you know?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“That was Mr. Sparling’s wife whose life you saved, and I reckon the
+boss will have something to say to you when he gets sight of you
+again.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE ELEPHANTS
+
+
+“Is it possible? I didn’t know that,” marveled the boy. “And does she
+perform?”
+
+“Everybody works in this outfit, young man,” laughed the assistant, “as
+you will learn if you hang around long enough. Going to the show?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Got seats?”
+
+“Mr. Sparling provided me with tickets, thank you. But I’ve got to get
+home first and put on some other clothes. This suit is about done for,
+isn’t it?”
+
+“I should say it was. You did that stopping the horse, didn’t you?”
+
+Phil nodded.
+
+“Boss will buy you a new suit for that.”
+
+“Oh, no; I couldn’t allow him to do that,” objected Phil.
+
+“Well, you are a queer youngster. So long. I’ll see you when you come
+in this afternoon. Wait, let me see your tickets.”
+
+The lad handed them over wonderingly, at which his questioner nodded
+approvingly.
+
+“They’re good seats. Hope you will enjoy the show.”
+
+“Thank you; I am sure I shall,” answered Phil, touching his hat and
+starting on a run for home.
+
+Arriving there, Mrs. Cahill met him and threw up her hands in horror
+when she observed the condition of his clothes.
+
+“I am afraid they are gone for good,” grinned Phil rather ruefully.
+
+“No. You leave them with me. I’ll fix them up for you. I heard how you
+saved that show woman’s life. That was fine, my boy. I’m proud of you,
+that I am. You did more than all those circus men could do, and the
+whole town is talking about it.”
+
+“If you are going to the show you had better be getting ready,” urged
+Phil, wishing to change the subject.
+
+“All right, I will. I’ll fix your clothes when I get back. Will you be
+home to supper?”
+
+“I don’t know for sure. If I can I’ll be back in time, but please don’t
+wait for me. Here is your ticket.”
+
+The lad hurried to the room the good woman had set aside for him and
+quickly made the change of clothing. He was obliged to change
+everything he had on, for even his shirt had been torn in his battle
+with the broncho. After bathing and putting on the fresh clothes, Phil
+hurried from the house, that he might miss nothing of the show.
+
+The sideshow band was blaring brazenly when he reached the lot. The
+space in front of the main entrance was packed with people, many of
+whom pointed to him, nodding their heads and directing the attention of
+their companions to the lad.
+
+Phil wished he might be able to skulk in by the back door and thus
+avoid their attention, but as this was impossible, he pulled his hat
+down over his eyes and worked his way slowly toward the front of the
+crowd.
+
+Getting near the entrance, he saw Mr. Sparling’s assistant. The latter,
+chancing to catch sight of Phil, motioned him to crawl under the ropes
+and come in. The boy did so gratefully.
+
+“The doors are not open yet, but you may go in. You will have time to
+look over the animals before the crowd arrives, then you can reach your
+seat before the others get in. Please let me see those checks once
+more.”
+
+The assistant made a mental note of the section and number of the seats
+for future reference and handed back the coupons.
+
+Phil stole into the menagerie tent, relieved to be away from the gaze
+and comments of the crowd that was massed in front.
+
+“Gracious, I’m afraid I wouldn’t make a very good circus man. I hate to
+have everybody looking at me as if I were some natural or unnatural
+curiosity. Wonder if I will know any of the show people when they are
+made up, as they call it, and performing in the ring? I shouldn’t
+wonder if they didn’t know me in my best clothes, though,” grinned the
+boy.
+
+Phil had had the forethought to bring a few lumps of sugar in his
+pocket. Entering the menagerie tent, he quickly made his way to the
+place where the elephants were chained, giving each one of the big
+beasts a lump. He felt no fear of them and permitted them to run their
+sensitive trunks over him and into his pockets, where they soon found
+the rest of the sugar.
+
+After disposing of the sweets, both beasts emitted a loud trumpeting.
+At such close quarters the noise they made seemed to shake the ground.
+
+“Why do they do that?” questioned Phil of the keeper.
+
+“That’s their way of thanking you for the sugar. You’ve made friends of
+both of them for life. They’ll never forget you, even if they don’t see
+you for several seasons.”
+
+“Do they like peanuts?”
+
+“Do they? Just try them.”
+
+Phil ran to a snack stand at the opposite side of the tent and bought
+five cents’ worth of peanuts, then hurried back to the elephants with
+the package.
+
+“What are their names?”
+
+“The big one is Emperor and the smaller one is called Jupiter,”
+answered the keeper, who had already recognized his young visitor.
+
+“Are they ever ugly?”
+
+“Never have been. But you can’t tell. An elephant is liable to go bad
+most any time, then you—”
+
+“But how can you tell, or can’t you?”
+
+“Most always, unless they are naturally bad.”
+
+“How do you know?”
+
+“See that little slit on the cheek up there?”
+
+“Yes,” said Phil, peering at the great jowls wonderingly.
+
+“Well, several days before they get in a tantrum you will see a few
+tear drops—that’s what I call them—oozing from that little slit. I
+don’t know whether it’s water on the brain or what it is. But when you
+see the tear drops you want to get from under and chain Mr. Elephant
+down as quickly as possible.
+
+“That is strange.”
+
+“Very. But it’s a sure sign. Never knew it to fail, and I’ve known some
+elephants in my time. But Emperor and Jupiter never have shed a tear
+drop since I’ve known them. They are not the crying kind, you know.”
+
+The lad nodded understandingly.
+
+“How about the lions and the tigers—can you tell when they are going to
+have bad spells?”
+
+“Well,” reflected the showman, “it’s safe to say that they’ve always
+got a grouch on. The cats are always—”
+
+“Cats?”
+
+“Yes. All that sort of animals belong to the cat family and they’ve got
+only one ambition in life.”
+
+“What’s that?”
+
+“To kill somebody or something.”
+
+“But their keepers—don’t they become fond of their keepers or
+trainers?”
+
+The elephant tender laughed without changing the expression of his
+face. His laugh was all inside of him, as Phil characterized it.
+
+“Not they! They may be afraid of their keeper, but they would as soon
+chew him up as anybody else—I guess they would rather, for they’ve
+always got a bone to pick with him.”
+
+“Do any of the men go in the cages and make the animals perform here?”
+
+“Oh, yes. Wallace, the big lion over there, performs every afternoon
+and night. So does the tiger in the cage next to him.”
+
+Phil had dumped the bag of peanuts into his hat, which he held out
+before him while talking. Two squirming trunks had been busy conveying
+the peanuts to the pink mouths of their owners, so that by the time
+Phil happened to remember what he had brought them, there was not a nut
+left in the hat.
+
+He glanced up in surprise.
+
+“Emperor, you are a greedy old elephant,” laughed Phil, patting the
+trunk.
+
+Emperor trumpeted loudly, and the call was immediately taken up even
+more loudly by his companion.
+
+“No, you can’t have any more,” chided Phil. “You will have indigestion
+from what you’ve already eaten, I’m afraid. Behave, and I’ll bring you
+some more tonight if I come to the show,” he laughed.
+
+Two caressing trunks touched his hands, then traveled gently over his
+cheeks. They tickled, but Phil did not flinch.
+
+“You could do most anything with them now, you see,” nodded the keeper.
+“They’d follow you home if I would let them.”
+
+“Especially if my pockets were full of sweets.”
+
+“There’s the animal trainer getting ready to go into the lion cage, if
+you want to see him,” the attendant informed him.
+
+“Yes, I should like to. And thank you very much for your kindness.”
+
+“You’re welcome. Come around again.”
+
+The boy hurried over to the lion cage. The people were now crowding
+into the menagerie tent in throngs. There seemed to Phil to be
+thousands already there. But all eyes now being centered on Wallace’s
+cage, they had no time to observe Phil, for which he was duly thankful.
+
+The animal trainer, clad in red tights, his breast covered with
+spangles, was already at the door of the cage, whip in hand. When a
+sufficient crowd had gathered about him, he opened the door, and,
+entering the cage threw wide the iron grating that shut Wallace off
+from the door end of the wagon. The big lion bounded out with a roar
+that caused the people to crowd back instinctively.
+
+Then the trainer began putting the savage beast through its paces,
+causing it to leap over his whip, jump through paper hoops, together
+with innumerable other tricks that caused the spectators to open their
+mouths in wonder. All the time Wallace kept up a continual snarling,
+interspersed now and then with a roar that might have been heard a
+quarter of a mile away.
+
+This was a part of the exhibition, as Phil shrewdly discovered. The boy
+was a natural showman, though unaware of the fact. He noted all the
+little fine points of the trainer’s work with as much appreciation as
+if he had himself been an animal trainer.
+
+“I half believe I should like to try that myself,” was his mental
+conclusion. “But I should want to make the experiment on a very little
+lion at first. If I got out with a whole skin I might want to tackle
+something bigger. I wonder if he is going into the tiger cage?”
+
+As if in answer to his question, an announcer shouted out the
+information that the trainer would give an exhibition in the cage of
+the tiger just before the evening performance.
+
+“I’ll have to see that,” muttered Phil. “Guess I had better get in and
+find my seat now.”
+
+At the same time the crowd, understanding that the lion performance was
+over, began crowding into the circus tent.
+
+The band inside swung off into a sprightly tune and Phil could scarcely
+repress the inclination to keep time to it with his feet. Altogether,
+things were moving pretty well with Phil Forrest. They had done so ever
+since he left home the day before. In that one day he had had more fun
+than had come to him in many years.
+
+But his happy day would soon be ended. He sighed as he thought of it.
+Then his face broke out into a sunny smile as he caught a glimpse of
+the ropes and apparatus, seen dimly through the afternoon haze, in the
+long circus tent.
+
+As he gained the entrance between the two large tents he saw the silk
+curtains at the far end of the circus arena fall apart, while a troop
+of gayly caparisoned horses and armored riders suddenly appeared
+through the opening.
+
+The grand entry was beginning.
+
+“Gracious, here the show has begun and I am not anywhere near my seat,”
+he exclaimed. “But, if I am going to be late I won’t be alone. There
+are a whole lot more of us that were too much interested in the animal
+trainer to think to come in and get our seats. I guess I had better
+run. I—”
+
+Phil started to run, but he got no further than the start.
+
+All at once his waist was encircled in a powerful grip and he felt his
+feet leaving the ground. Phil was being raised straight up into the air
+by some strange force, the secret of which he did not understand.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+IN THE SAWDUST ARENA
+
+
+The lad repressed an inclination to cry out, for the thing that had
+encircled his waist and raised him up seemed to be tightening about
+him.
+
+A familiar voice just behind him served to calm Phil’s disquieted
+nerves.
+
+“Don’t be frightened, kid. It’s only Emperor having a little joke. He’s
+a funny fellow,” said the elephant’s attendant.
+
+Phil had read somewhere that elephants possessed a keen sense of humor,
+and now he was sure of it. But he never thought he would have an
+opportunity to have the theory demonstrated on himself.
+
+The elephants were on their way to participate in the grand entry, and
+there was not a minute to spare now. Emperor on his way into the other
+tent had come across his new-found friend and recognized him instantly,
+while Phil had not even heard the approach of the elephants.
+
+No sooner had the elephant discovered the lad than he picked him up
+with his trunk, slowly hoisting the boy high in the air.
+
+“Steady, Emperor! Steady!” cautioned the attendant. But Emperor needed
+no admonition to deal gently with his young friend. He handled Phil
+with almost the gentleness of a mother lifting a babe.
+
+Phil Forrest experienced a thrill that ran all through him when he
+realized what was taking place.
+
+“We can’t stop to put you down now, my boy. You’ll have to go through
+the performance with us. Grab the head harness when he lets you down on
+his head. You can sit on the head without danger, but keep hold of the
+harness with one hand. I’ll bet you’ll make a hit.”
+
+“I will if I fall off,” answered Phil a bit unsteadily.
+
+As it was, the unusual motion made him a little giddy.
+
+“That’s a good stunt. Stick to him, Forrest,” directed a voice as they
+swept on toward the ring.
+
+The voice belonged to Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show. He was quick
+to grasp the value of Phil’s predicament—that is, its value to the show
+as a drawing card.
+
+By now the people began to understand that something unusual was going
+on, and they asked each other what it was all about.
+
+“It’s Phil Forrest riding the elephant,” shouted one of the lad’s
+school friends, recognizing him all at once. “Hooray for Phil!”
+
+There were many of the pupils from his school there, and the howling
+and shouting that greeted him made the lad’s cheeks burn. But now,
+instead of wanting to crawl under something and hide, Phil felt a
+thrill of pleasure, of pride in the achievement that was denied to all
+the rest of his friends.
+
+The inspiring music of the circus band, too, added to his exhilaration.
+He felt like throwing up his hands and shouting.
+
+Suddenly he felt something tugging at his coat pocket, and glancing
+down gave a start as he discovered the inquisitive trunk of Emperor
+thrust deep down in the pocket.
+
+When the trunk came away it brought with it a lump of sugar that Phil
+did not know he possessed. The sugar was promptly conveyed to the
+elephant’s mouth, the beast uttering a loud scream of satisfaction.
+
+“Emperor, you rascal!” laughed Phil, patting the beast on the head.
+
+Once more the trunk curled up in search of more sugar, but a stern
+command from the trainer caused the beast to lower it quickly. The time
+for play had passed. The moment had arrived for Emperor to do his work
+and he was not the animal to shirk his act. In fact, he seemed to
+delight in it. All elephants work better when they have with them some
+human being or animal on which they have centered their affections.
+Sometimes it is a little black and tan dog, sometimes a full-grown man.
+In this instance it happened to be a boy, and that boy Phil Forrest.
+
+“Waltz!” commanded the trainer.
+
+If Phil’s head had swum before, it spun like a top now. Round and round
+pirouetted the huge beasts, keeping in perfect step with the music of
+the band, and tighter and tighter did the lad grip the head harness of
+old Emperor. Phil closed his eyes after a little because he had grown
+so dizzy that he feared he would fall off.
+
+“Hang on, kid. It’ll be Christmas by and by,” comforted the trainer
+humorously.
+
+“That’s what I am trying to do,” answered Phil a bit unsteadily.
+
+“How’s your head?”
+
+“Whirling like a merry-go-round.”
+
+He heard the trainer chuckling.
+
+The spectators were shouting out Phil’s name all over the big tent.
+
+“Fine, fine!” chuckled James Sparling, rubbing his palms together.
+“That ought to fill the tent tonight.”
+
+The spectators realized, too, that they were being treated to something
+not down on the bills and their shouts and laughter grew louder and
+louder.
+
+“Do you think you could stand up on his head?” came the voice of the
+trainer just loud enough for Phil to hear.
+
+“Me? Stand on the elephant’s head?”
+
+“Yes. Think you can do it?”
+
+“If I had a net underneath to catch me, maybe I’d try it.”
+
+“Emperor won’t let you fall. When I give the word he’ll wrap his trunk
+around your legs. That will hold you steady from the waist down. If you
+can keep the rest of yourself from lopping over you’ll be all right.
+It’ll make a hit—see if it don’t.”
+
+“I—I’ll try it.”
+
+“Wait till I give the word, then get up on all fours, but don’t
+straighten up till you feel the trunk about you. We’ll make a showman
+of you before you know it.”
+
+“I seem to be the whole show as it is,” grumbled Phil.
+
+“You are, just now—you and Emperor. Good thing the other performers are
+not in the ring, or they would all be jealous of you.”
+
+“I wish Uncle Abner could see me now. Wouldn’t he be mad!” grinned
+Phil, as the memory of his crabbed relative came back to him. “He’d
+come right out after me with his stick, he’d be so angry. But I guess
+Emperor wouldn’t let him touch me,” decided the boy proudly, with an
+affectionate pat to which the elephant responded with a cough that
+sounded not unlike the explosion of a dynamite cartridge.
+
+“All ready now. Don’t be afraid. Hold each position till I give you the
+word to change it.”
+
+“Ready,” announced the lad.
+
+“Emperor! Jupiter!”
+
+The twitching of a ponderous ear of each animal told that they had
+heard and understood.
+
+“Rise!”
+
+Phil had scrambled to all fours.
+
+“Hold him, Emperor!”
+
+The great trunk curled up, ran over the boy’s legs and twined about
+them.
+
+“Up you go, kid!”
+
+Phil raised himself fearlessly, straightened and stood full upon his
+feet. That strong grip on his legs gave him confidence and told him he
+had nothing to fear. All he would have to do would be to keep his ears
+open for the trainer’s commands both to himself and the beast, and he
+would be all right.
+
+He felt himself going up again.
+
+The sensation was something akin to that which Phil had once
+experienced when jumping off a haystack. He felt as if his whole body
+were being tickled by straws.
+
+The elephants were rising on their hind legs, uttering shrill screams
+and mighty coughs, as if enraged over the humiliation that was being
+put upon them.
+
+It seemed to Phil as if Emperor would never stop going up until the
+lad’s head was against the top of the tent. He ventured to look down.
+
+What a distance it was! Phil hastily directed his glances upward.
+
+At last the elephant had risen as high as he could go. He was standing
+almost straight up and down, and on his head the slender figure of the
+boy appeared almost unreal to those off on the seats.
+
+Thunders of applause swept over the assemblage. People rose up in their
+seats, the younger ones hurling hats high in the air and uttering
+catcalls and shrill whistles, until pandemonium reigned under the “big
+top,” as the circus tent proper is called by the showmen.
+
+“Swing your hat at them!”
+
+The trainer had to shout to make himself heard, and as it was Phil
+caught the words as from afar off.
+
+He took off his soft hat and waved it on high, gazing wonderingly off
+over the seats. He could distinguish nothing save a waving, undulating
+mass of moving life and color.
+
+It was intoxicating. And Phil Forrest went suddenly dizzy again.
+
+“I’m losing my head,” rebuked the lad. “If I don’t pull myself together
+I shall surely fall off. Then they will have something to laugh at
+rather than to applaud.”
+
+He took himself firmly in hand. But the applause did not abate one
+whit.
+
+“Watch out, we’re going down,” warned the trainer.
+
+“Right!”
+
+The elephant trainer’s command came out like the crack of a
+ringmaster’s whip.
+
+Slowly the great beasts lowered themselves toward the sawdust ring.
+
+“Stoop over and grab the harness!”
+
+Phil did so.
+
+“Sit! Let go, Emperor!”
+
+The trunk was released instantly and Phil plumped to the beast’s head
+once more, amid the wildest applause.
+
+The band swung into another tune, which was the signal for the next act
+to be brought on. At the same time the ringmaster blew a shrill blast
+on his whistle.
+
+The trainer left the ring with his charges by an exit that he seldom
+departed through. But he did so in order to leave Phil near the place
+where his seats were, first having ascertained where these were
+located.
+
+“Put him down, Emperor! Down, I say!”
+
+Emperor reached up an unwilling trunk, grasped Phil about the waist and
+stood him on the ground. At the trainer’s command the beast released
+his hold of his friend and as the hook was gently pressed against his
+side to hurry him, Emperor started reluctantly away.
+
+Phil, with flushed face, a happy look in his eyes, had turned to run up
+the aisle to his seats, when, with a loud trumpeting, Emperor wheeled,
+and breaking away from his trainer, swept down toward the spot where he
+had left Phil Forrest.
+
+The movement almost threw those in that section into a panic. Women
+screamed, believing the animal had suddenly gone crazy, while men
+sprang to their feet.
+
+Phil had turned at the first alarm, and, observing what was taking
+place, with rare presence of mind trotted down to the arena again.
+
+He reached there about the same time that Emperor did.
+
+With a shrill scream Emperor threw his long trunk about the lad, and
+before Phil had time to catch his breath, he had been hurled to the
+elephant’s back.
+
+Uttering loud trumpetings the great elephant started on a swift shamble
+for his quarters, giving not the slightest heed to his trainer’s
+commands to halt.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+GETTING HIS FIRST CALL
+
+
+“Let him go. Emperor won’t hurt me,” laughed Phil as soon as he could
+get his breath, for he was moving along at a pace which would have
+meant a tumble to the ground had the elephant not supported the lad
+with its trunk.
+
+The audience soon seeing that no harm had come to the boy, set up
+another roar, which was still loud in Phil’s ears when Emperor set his
+burden down after reaching the elephant quarters in the menagerie tent.
+
+“You’re a bad boy. Get down, sir, and let me off,” chided Phil.
+
+The elephant, to his surprise, cautiously let himself down to his
+knees, his trunk at the same time reaching out surreptitiously for a
+wisp of fresh grass.
+
+Phil slipped off, laughing heartily. He had lost all fear of the great,
+hulking beast.
+
+“Don’t punish him, please,” begged the boy when the keeper came
+hurrying along with Jupiter. “But if you will make him let me alone,
+I’ll go in the other tent. I want to see the circus.”
+
+“Wait a moment. I’ll chain him up.”
+
+The keeper soon had Emperor fast. Then after a final affectionate
+petting Phil ran lightly to the other tent and quickly made his way to
+his seat. The people were so engrossed in the acts in the ring that
+they did not observe the boy particularly this time.
+
+“Did I make a show of myself, Mrs. Cahill?” questioned the lad, with
+sparkling eyes.
+
+“You did not. You were as handsome as a picture. There isn’t one of all
+those people that looks so handsome or so manly as—”
+
+“Please, please, Mrs. Cahill!” begged the lad, blushing violently.
+“Have you seen anything of my friend Teddy? I had forgotten all about
+him.”
+
+“That looks like him down there.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“There, leaning against that pole,” she pointed.
+
+Phil gazed in the direction indicated, and there, sure enough, was
+Teddy Tucker leaning carelessly against the center pole. He had no
+right to be there, as Phil well knew, and he watched with amused
+interest for the moment when the other boy’s presence would be
+discovered.
+
+It came shortly afterwards. All at once the ringmaster fixed a cold eye
+on Teddy.
+
+“Hey, you!”
+
+Teddy gave no heed to him.
+
+“Get out of there! Think you own this show?”
+
+The lad made believe that he did not hear.
+
+The ringmaster’s long whip lash curled through the air, going off with
+a crack that sounded as if a pistol had been fired, and within an inch
+of Teddy’s nose.
+
+Teddy sprang back, slapping a hand to his face, believing that he had
+been hit. Then there followed a series of disconcerting snaps all
+around his head as the long lash began to work, but so skillfully was
+it wielded that the end of it did not touch him.
+
+But Teddy had had enough. He turned and ran for the seats.
+
+“Come up here,” cried Phil, laughing immoderately. “Here’s a seat right
+beside us and there won’t be any ringmaster to bother you.”
+
+Considerably crestfallen, the lad climbed up to where Phil and Mrs.
+Cahill were sitting.
+
+“You mustn’t go down there, you know, Teddy. They don’t allow outsiders
+in the ring while the performance is going on. Someone might get hurt—”
+
+“They let you in,” bristled Teddy.
+
+“That was different. They couldn’t help themselves, and neither could
+I. Emperor took me in whether I would or not; and, in fact, I didn’t
+know I was going till I was halfway there.”
+
+Phil’s companion surveyed him with admiration.
+
+“My, but you did cut a figure up on that elephant’s head! I should have
+been afraid.”
+
+“There was nothing to be afraid of. But let’s watch the performance.
+There’s a trapeze act going on now.”
+
+For a few moments the lads watched the graceful bodies of the
+performers slipping through the air. One would swing out from his
+perch, flying straight into the arms of his fellow-performer who was
+hanging head down from another swinging bar. On the return sweep the
+first performer would catch his own bar and return to his perch.
+
+“Looks easy. I’ll bet I could do that,” nodded Teddy.
+
+Phil shook his head.
+
+“Not so easy as it looks.”
+
+“How much do you suppose they get—think they must get as much as a
+dollar and a half a day for doing that? I’d do it for a dollar, if I
+could,” averred the irrepressible Teddy Tucker.
+
+“They get a good many more dollars than that, Teddy. I’ve heard that
+some of them get all of twenty-five or thirty dollars a week.”
+
+Phil’s companion whistled.
+
+The next act was a bareback riding exhibition, by a pretty, graceful
+young woman whom the ringmaster introduced as Mademoiselle Mora.
+
+At the crack of the whip she sprang lightly to the back of the gray old
+ring horse and began a series of feats that made the boys sit forward
+in their seats.
+
+At the conclusion of the act Mademoiselle Mora ran out to the edge of
+the ring, and blowing a kiss at the blushing Phil, tripped away on
+fairy feet for the dressing tent.
+
+“Did you see her? She bowed to me?” exclaimed Teddy enthusiastically.
+
+“Guess she didn’t see you at all, young man,” replied Mrs. Cahill
+dryly. “There’s others in the tent besides you, even if the ringmaster
+did crack his whip in your face and just miss your nose.”
+
+A clown came out and sang a song about a boy who had rescued a
+beautiful young woman from a runaway horse and got kidnaped by an
+elephant. The song made a hit, for most of the audience understood that
+it referred to Phil Forrest.
+
+And so the performance went on, with a glitter and a crash, a haze of
+yellow dust hanging like a golden cloud in the afternoon sun, over
+spectators and performers alike.
+
+“Hello, there’s Rod!” exclaimed Teddy.
+
+“Who?”
+
+“Rod. The red-haired kid we saw this morning, only his hair is black
+now. He’s covered up his own looks so he won’t set the tent on fire.”
+
+“Oh, you mean Rodney Palmer? Yes, I guess that is he.”
+
+“See, they’re pulling him up on a rope. I wonder where he is going?”
+
+“To those flying rings,” explained Phil. “And there is a young woman
+going up, too.”
+
+One after another was pulled up, until a troupe of four had ascended
+and swung off to the rings that were suspended far up there in the
+haze.
+
+Both Phil and Teddy were more than ordinarily interested in this act,
+for they were no mean performers on the rings themselves. In the
+schoolyard an apparatus had been rigged with flying rings, and on this
+the boys had practiced untiringly during the spring months, until they
+had both become quite proficient.
+
+“Isn’t he great?” breathed Teddy, as Rodney Palmer swung out into the
+air, letting his legs slip through the rings until only his toes were
+hanging to the slender support.
+
+“Yes; he certainly does do it fine.”
+
+“We can do it just as well.”
+
+“Perhaps, but not so gracefully.”
+
+“See, he’s swinging his hand at us.”
+
+Sure enough, Rodney had picked out the two lads, and was smiling at
+them and waving a hand in their direction. The two lads felt very proud
+of this, knowing as they did that they were the envy of every boy of
+their acquaintance within sight of them.
+
+The climax of the act was when the young woman seemed to plunge
+straight down toward the ground.
+
+The women in the audience uttered sharp little cries of alarm. But the
+performer was not falling. Strong slender ropes had been fastened to
+her heels, the other ends being held by one of the performers who was
+hanging from the rings.
+
+As a result the falling girl’s flight was checked just before she
+reached the ground and the spectators breathed a sigh of profound
+relief.
+
+“My, that was great! I wouldn’t want to do that.”
+
+“No, you’re too heavy, Teddy. That’s why they have a girl do it. She is
+slender and light—”
+
+“I’d be light headed.”
+
+“Guess, I would, too,” laughed Phil.
+
+At this juncture an attendant came running up the steps, halting before
+the lads.
+
+“Are you Phil Forrest?” he asked.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“The boss wants to see you.”
+
+“Mr. Sparling? All right. I wanted to see the rest of the show, but
+I’ll go.” Phil rose reluctantly and followed the guide. “I’ll meet you
+by the ticket wagon if I don’t get back here, Teddy,” he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+PHIL GETS A SURPRISE
+
+
+“Where will I find Mr. Sparling?”
+
+“In the doghouse.”
+
+“Where’s that?”
+
+“Out back of the ticket wagon. It’s a little A tent, and we call it the
+boss’s doghouse, because it’s only big enough to hold a couple of St.
+Bernards.”
+
+“Oh! What does he want of me?”
+
+“Ask him,” grinned the attendant, who, it developed, was an usher in
+the reserved-seat section. “He don’t tell us fellows his business. Say,
+that was a great stunt you did with Emperor.”
+
+“Oh, I don’t know.”
+
+“I do. There’s the doghouse over there. See it?”
+
+“Yes, thank you.”
+
+The attendant leaving him, Phil walked on alone to Mr. Sparling’s
+private office, for such was the use to which he put the little tent
+that the usher had called the “doghouse.”
+
+“I wonder what he can want of me?” mused Phil. “Probably he wants to
+thank me for stopping that pony. I hope he doesn’t. I don’t like to be
+thanked. And it wasn’t much of anything that I did anyway. Maybe he’s
+going to—but what’s the use of guessing?”
+
+The lad stepped up to the tent, the flaps of which were closed. He
+stretched out his hand to knock, then grinned sheepishly.
+
+“I forgot you couldn’t knock at a tent door. I wonder how visitors
+announce themselves, anyway.”
+
+His toe, at that moment, chanced to touch the tent pole and that gave
+him an idea. Phil tapped against the pole with his foot.
+
+“Come in!” bellowed the voice of the owner of the show.
+
+Phil entered, hat in hand. At the moment the owner was busily engaged
+with a pile of bills for merchandise recently purchased at the local
+stores, and he neither looked up nor spoke.
+
+Phil stood quietly waiting, noting amusedly the stern scowl that
+appeared to be part of Mr. Sparling’s natural expression.
+
+“Well, what do you want?” he demanded, with disconcerting suddenness.
+
+“I—I was told that you had sent for me, that you wanted to see me,”
+began the lad, with a show of diffidence.
+
+“So I did, so I did.”
+
+The showman hitched his camp chair about so he could get a better look
+at his visitor. He studied Phil from head to foot with his usual scowl.
+
+“Sit down!”
+
+“On the ground, sir?”
+
+“Ground? No, of course not. Where’s that chair? Oh, my lazy tent man
+didn’t open it. I’ll fire him the first place we get to where he won’t
+be likely to starve to death. I hear you’ve been trying to put my show
+out of business.”
+
+“I wasn’t aware of it, sir,” replied Phil, looking squarely at his
+questioner. “Perhaps I was not wholly blameless in attaching myself to
+Emperor.”
+
+“Huh!” grunted Mr. Sparling, but whether or not it was a grunt of
+disapproval, Phil could not determine.
+
+“So you’re not living at home?”
+
+“I have no home now, sir.”
+
+“Just so, just so. Brought up in refined surroundings, parents dead,
+crabbed old uncle turned you out of doors for reasons best known to
+himself—”
+
+Phil was amazed.
+
+“You seem to know all about me, sir.”
+
+“Of course. It’s my business to know something about everything. I
+ought to thank you for getting Mrs. Sparling out of that mix-up this
+morning, but I’ll let her do that for herself. She wants to see you
+after the performance.”
+
+“I don’t like to be thanked, Mr. Sparling, though I should like to know
+Mrs. Sparling,” said Phil boldly.
+
+“Neither do I, neither do I. Emperor has gone daffy over you. What did
+you feed him?”
+
+“Some sugar and peanuts. That was all.”
+
+“Huh! You ought to be a showman.”
+
+“I have always wanted to be, Mr. Sparling.”
+
+“Oh, you have, eh?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Well, why don’t you?”
+
+“I have never had the opportunity.”
+
+“You mean you’ve never looked for an opportunity. There are always
+opportunities for everything, but we have to go after them. You’ve been
+going after them today for the first time, and you’ve nailed one of
+them clear up to the splice of the center pole. Understand?”
+
+“Not entirely, sir.”
+
+“Well, do you want to join out with the Great Sparling Combined Shows,
+or don’t you?”
+
+“You mean—I join the—the—”
+
+Mr. Sparling was observing him narrowly.
+
+“I said, would you like to join our show?”
+
+“I should like it better than anything else in the world.”
+
+“Sign this contract, then,” snapped the showman, thrusting a paper
+toward Phil Forrest, at the same time dipping a pen in the ink bottle
+and handing it to him.
+
+“You will allow me to read it first, will you not?”
+
+“Good! That’s the way I like to hear a boy talk. Shows he’s got some
+sense besides what he’s learned in books at some—well, never mind.”
+
+“What—what is this, ten dollars a week?” gasped Phil, scarcely able to
+believe his eyes as he looked at the paper.
+
+“That’s what the contract says, doesn’t it?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Then, that’s what it is. Traveling expenses and feed included. You are
+an easy keeper?”
+
+“Well, I don’t eat quite as much as a horse, if that’s what you mean,”
+laughed Phil.
+
+“Huh!”
+
+After reading the contract through, the lad affixed his signature to it
+with trembling hand. It was almost too good to be true.
+
+“Thank you, sir,” he said, laying the paper before Mr. Sparling.
+
+“And now, my lad,” added the showman more mildly, “let me give you some
+advice. Some folks look upon circus people as rough and intemperate.
+That day’s past. When a man gets bad habits he’s of no further use in
+the circus business. He closes mighty quick. Remember that.”
+
+“Yes, sir. You need not worry about my getting into any such trouble.”
+
+“I don’t, or I wouldn’t take you. And another thing: Don’t get it into
+your head, as a good many show people do, that you know more about
+running the business than the boss does. He might not agree with you.
+It’s a bad thing to disagree with the boss, eh?”
+
+“I understand, sir.”
+
+“You’d better.”
+
+“What do you want me to do? I don’t know what I can do to earn that
+salary, but I am willing to work at whatever you may put me to—”
+
+“That’s the talk. I was waiting for you to come to that. But leave the
+matter to me. You’ll have a lot of things to do, after you get your
+bearings and I find out what you can do best. As it is, you have earned
+your salary for the first season whether you do anything else or not.
+You saved the big cat and you probably saved my wife’s life, but we’ll
+let that pass. When can you join out?”
+
+“I’m ready now, sir. I shall want to go home and get my things and my
+books.”
+
+“Huh! That’s right. Take your time. We shan’t be pulling out of here
+till after midnight, so you’d better go home and get ready. You’ll want
+to bid good-bye to Mrs. Ca—Ca—Cahill.”
+
+“I wonder if there is anything that he doesn’t know about,” marveled
+Phil.
+
+“Anything you want to ask me about—any favor you’d like? If there is,
+get it out.”
+
+“Well, yes, there is, but I scarcely feel like asking it, you have been
+so kind to me.”
+
+“Shucks!”
+
+“I—I have a little friend, who—who, like myself, has no parents and is
+crazy over the circus. He wants to be a circus man just as much as I
+do. If you had a place—if you could find something for him to do, I
+should appreciate it very much.”
+
+“Who is he, that youngster with the clown face, who crawled in under
+the tent this afternoon?”
+
+Phil laughed outright.
+
+“I presume so. That’s the way he usually gets in.”
+
+“Where is he now?”
+
+“Seeing the performance, sir.”
+
+“Nail him when he comes out. We’ll give him all the show he wants.”
+
+With profuse thanks Phil Forrest backed from the tent and walked
+rapidly toward the entrance. It seemed to him as if he were walking on
+air.
+
+“Let that boy through. He’s with the show now,” bellowed Mr. Sparling,
+poking his head from the doghouse tent.
+
+The gateman nodded.
+
+“How soon will the performance be over?” inquired Phil, approaching the
+gateman.
+
+“Ten minutes now.”
+
+“Then, I guess I won’t go in. I promised to meet Teddy over by the
+ticket wagon anyway.”
+
+But Phil could not stand still. Thrusting his hands in his pockets he
+began pacing back and forth, pondering deeply. He did not observe the
+shrewd eyes of Mr. Sparling fixed upon him from behind the flap of the
+little tent.
+
+“At last, at last!” mused Phil. “I’m a real live showman at last, but
+what kind of a showman I don’t know. Probably they’ll make me help put
+up the tents and take them down. But, I don’t care. I’ll do anything.
+And think of the money I’ll earn. Ten dollars a week!” he exclaimed,
+pausing and glancing up at the fluttering flags waving from center and
+quarter poles. “Why, it’s a fortune! I shall be able to save most all
+of it, too. Oh, I’m so happy!”
+
+“They’re coming out,” called the gateman to him.
+
+“Thank you.”
+
+Phil’s face was full of repressed excitement when Teddy came slouching
+up to him.
+
+“Bully show,” announced the lad. “Didn’t know which way to look, there
+was so much to be seen.”
+
+“How would you like to join the show and be a real circus man?”
+demanded Phil.
+
+“Great!”
+
+“Maybe I can fix it for you.”
+
+“You?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Don’t give me such a shock, Phil. You said it almost as if you meant
+it.”
+
+“And I did.”
+
+Teddy gazed at his companion for a full minute.
+
+“Something’s been going on, I guess—something that I don’t seem to know
+anything about.”
+
+“There has, Teddy. I’m already a showman. You come with me. Mr.
+Sparling wants to speak with you. Don’t be afraid of him. He talks as
+if he was mad all the time, but I’m sure he isn’t.”
+
+Grasping Teddy by the arm Phil rushed him into Mr. Sparling’s tent,
+entering this time without knocking.
+
+“This is my friend whom I spoke to you about,” announced Phil,
+thrusting Teddy up before the showman.
+
+Mr. Sparling eyed the lad suspiciously.
+
+“Want to join out, too, eh?”
+
+“I—I’d like to,” stammered Teddy.
+
+“Do your parents approve of your going with a show?”
+
+“I—I don’t know, sir.”
+
+“You’d better find out, then. Ask them mighty quick. This is no camp
+meeting outfit that plays week stands.”
+
+“Can’t.”
+
+“Why not?”
+
+“’Cause they’re dead.”
+
+“Huh! Why didn’t you say so before?”
+
+“You didn’t ask me.”
+
+“You’re too smart, young man.”
+
+“Takes a smart man to be a circus man, doesn’t it?”
+
+“I guess you’re right at that,” answered the showman, his stern
+features relaxing into a smile. “You’ll do. But you’d better not hand
+out that line of sharp talk in bunches when you get with the show. It
+might get you into trouble if you did.”
+
+“Yes, sir; I’ll be good.”
+
+“Now, you boys had better run along and make your preparations. You may
+take your supper in the cook tent tonight if you wish. But you will
+have to be on hand promptly, as they take down the cook tent first of
+all.”
+
+“Thank you; we will,” answered Phil.
+
+“What act—what do I perform?” questioned Teddy, swelling with pride.
+
+“Perform?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Ho, ho, ho!”
+
+“I’m going to be a performer and wear pink pants, ain’t I?”
+
+“A performer? Oh, that’s too good. Yes, my son, you shall be a
+performer. How would you like to be a juggler?”
+
+“Fine!”
+
+“Then, I think I’ll let you juggle the big coffeepot in the cook tent
+for the edification of the hungry roustabouts,” grinned Mr. Sparling.
+
+“What do I do?”
+
+“Do, young man—do?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Why, you stand by the coffee boiler in the cook tent, and when you
+hear a waiter bawl ‘Draw one,’ at the same time throwing a pitcher at
+you from halfway across the tent, you catch the pitcher and have it
+filled and ready for him by the time he gets to you.”
+
+“Do I throw the pitcherful of coffee back at him?” questioned Teddy
+innocently.
+
+“You might, but you wouldn’t be apt to try it a second time. You’d be
+likely to get a resounding slap from the flat of his hand—”
+
+“I’d hit him on the nose if he did,” declared Teddy belligerently.
+
+Mr. Sparling could not resist laughing.
+
+“That’s not the way to begin. But you will learn. Follow your friend
+Phil, here, and you will be all right if I am any judge of boys. I
+ought to be, for I have boys of my own. You’d better be going now.”
+
+The two lads started off at a brisk pace. Phil to tell Mrs. Cahill of
+his good fortune. Teddy to bid good-bye to the people with whom he had
+been living as chore boy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+THE FIRST NIGHT WITH THE SHOW
+
+
+“Teddy, you and I are a pair of lucky boys. Do you know it?” asked
+Phil.
+
+Each, with his bag of belongings, was on his way to the circus lot, the
+boys having bid good-bye to their friends in the village.
+
+The people with whom Teddy lived had given a reluctant consent to his
+going with the circus, after he had explained that Phil Forrest had
+gotten him the place and that Phil himself was going to join the show.
+The lad told them he was going to make a lot of money and that someday
+he would pay them for all they had done for him. And he kept his word
+faithfully.
+
+“Maybe. I reckon Barnum & Bailey will be wanting us first thing we
+know,” answered Teddy.
+
+“We shall be lucky if we hold on to the job we have already. Did Mr.
+Sparling say what he would pay you?”
+
+“No, he didn’t think of that—at least I didn’t. Did he tell you how
+much you were going to get?”
+
+Phil nodded.
+
+“How much?”
+
+“I don’t think I had better say,” answered the lad doubtfully. “If you
+ask him and he tells you, of course that will be all right. I shall be
+glad to do so then. It isn’t that I don’t want you to know, you
+understand, but it might be better business, just now, to say nothing
+about it,” added Phil, with a wisdom far beyond his years.
+
+“Dark secret, eh?” jeered Teddy Tucker.
+
+“No; there’s no secret about it. It is just plain business, that’s
+all.”
+
+“Business! Huh! Who ever heard of a circus being business?”
+
+“You’ll find business enough when you get in, Teddy Tucker.”
+
+“Don’t believe it. It’s just good fun and that’s all.”
+
+They had reached the circus lot by this time and were now making their
+way to Mr. Sparling’s tent.
+
+“We have come to report, sir,” announced Phil, entering the tent with
+Teddy close behind him. “We are ready for work.”
+
+There was a proud ring in Phil Forrest’s voice as he made the
+announcement.
+
+“Very well, boys. Hand your baggage over to the man at the baggage
+wagon. If there is anything in either of your grips that you will want
+during the night you had better get it out, for you will be unable to
+get into the wagon after the show is on the road. That’s one of the
+early wagons to move, too.”
+
+“I guess there is nothing except our tooth brushes and combs that we
+shall need. We have those in our pockets.”
+
+“Better take a couple of towels along as well.”
+
+“Yes, sir; thank you.”
+
+“The cook tent is open. Go over and have your suppers now. Wait a
+moment, I’ll go with you. They might not let you in. You see, they
+don’t know you there yet.”
+
+Mr. Sparling, after closing and locking his trunk, escorted the lads to
+the cook tent, where he introduced both to the manager of that
+department.
+
+“Give them seats at the performers’ table for tonight,” he directed.
+“They will be with the show from now on. Mr. Forrest here will remain
+at that table, but the other, the Tucker boy, I shall probably turn
+over to you for a coffee boy.”
+
+The manager nodded good naturedly, taking quick mental measure of the
+two lads.
+
+The boys were directed to their seats, which they took, almost as if in
+a dream. It was a new and unfamiliar experience to them. The odor of
+the food, the sweet scents from the green grass underneath their feet,
+all so familiar to the showman, gave Phil and Teddy appetites that even
+a canvasman might have envied.
+
+The performers glanced at them curiously, some of the former nodding to
+Phil, having recognized in him the boy who had ridden the elephant into
+the arena in the grand entry.
+
+“Not so much after all, are they?” grunted Teddy.
+
+“They are all human beings like ourselves, I guess,” replied Phil.
+
+Stripped of their gaudy costumes and paint, the performers looked just
+like other normal beings. But instead of talking about the show and
+their work, they were discussing the news of the day, and it seemed to
+the two lads to be more like a large family at supper than a crowd of
+circus performers.
+
+Rodney Palmer nodded good naturedly to them from further up the long
+table, but they had no more than time to nod back when a waiter
+approached to take their orders. Teddy ordered pretty much everything
+on the bill, while Phil was more modest in his demands.
+
+“Don’t eat everything they have,” he warned laughingly.
+
+“Plenty more where this came from. That’s one good thing about a show.”
+
+“What’s that?”
+
+“If the food gives out they can eat the animals.”
+
+“Better look out that the animals don’t make a meal of you.”
+
+“Joining out?” asked the man sitting next to Phil.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Ring act?”
+
+“I don’t know yet what I am to do. Mr. Sparling is giving me a chance
+to find out what I am good for, if anything,” smiled Phil.
+
+“Boss is all right,” nodded the circus man. “That was a good stunt you
+did this afternoon. Why don’t you work that up?”
+
+“I—I’ll think about it.” Phil did not know exactly what was meant by
+the expression, but it set him to thinking, and out of the suggestion
+he was destined to “work up” something that was really worthwhile, and
+that was to give him his first real start in the circus world.
+
+“What’s that funny-looking fellow over there doing?” interrupted Teddy.
+
+“That man down near the end of the table?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“That’s Billy Thorpe, the Armless Wonder,” the performer informed him.
+
+“And he hasn’t any hands?” wondered the boy.
+
+“Naturally not, not having any arms. He uses his feet for hands.”
+
+“What’s he doing now?”
+
+“Eating with his feet. He can use them almost as handily as you can
+your hands. You should see Billy sew, and write and do other things.
+Why, they say he writes the best foot of anybody in the show.”
+
+“Doesn’t he ever get cold feet?” questioned Teddy humorously.
+
+“Circus people are not afflicted with that ailment. Doesn’t go well
+with their business.”
+
+“May I ask what you do?” inquired Phil.
+
+“I am the catcher in the principal trapeze act. You may have seen me
+today. I think you were in the big top then.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I saw you this afternoon.”
+
+“How many people are with the show?” asked Teddy.
+
+“At a rough guess, I should say a hundred and fifty including canvasmen
+and other labor help. It’s a pretty big organization for a road show,
+the biggest in the country; but it’s small, so small it would be lost
+if one of the big railroad shows was around.”
+
+“Is that another armless or footless wonder next to Billy Thorpe?”
+asked Teddy.
+
+“It’s a freak, yes, but with hands and feet. That’s the living
+skeleton, but if he keeps on eating the way he’s been doing lately the
+boss will have to change the bills and bill him as the fattest man on
+earth.”
+
+“Huh!” grunted Teddy. “He could crawl through a rat hole in a barn door
+now. He’s thin enough to cut cheese with.”
+
+Phil gave his companion a vigorous nudge under the table.
+
+“You’ll get into trouble if you are so free in expressing your
+opinions,” he whispered. “Don’t forget the advice Mr. Sparling gave
+you.”
+
+“Apple or custard pie?” broke in the voice of the waiter.
+
+“Custard,” answered Phil.
+
+“Both for mine,” added Teddy.
+
+He got what he had ordered and without the least question, for the
+Sparling show believed that the best way to make its people contented
+was to feed them.
+
+Mr. Sparling and his assistants, Phil observed, occupied a table by
+themselves. After he had finished the owner motioned to him to join
+them, and there Mrs. Sparling made a place for him by her side and
+thanked him briefly but warmly for his brave act.
+
+“I shall have to keep an eye on you two boys,” she smiled. “Any time I
+can help you with advice or otherwise you come right to me. Don’t you
+be backward about doing so, will you?”
+
+Phil assured her that he would not.
+
+The two lads after some further conversation strolled from the cook
+tent.
+
+“I think I’ll go in and see how the animals are getting along,” decided
+Phil, beginning to realize that he was free to go where he would and
+without fear of being ordered off.
+
+Already people were gathering in front of the entrance for the night
+performance. The doors were advertised to open at seven o’clock, so
+that the spectators might have plenty of time in which to view the
+collection of “rare and wonderful beasts, gathered from the remote
+places of the earth,” as the announcer proclaimed from the vantage
+point of a dry goods box.
+
+Phil bought a bag of peanuts and took them in to his friend Emperor,
+the beast uttering a shrill cry of joy when he saw Phil approaching.
+
+“I’ll try to teach him my whistle,” said the boy, puckering his lips
+and giving the signal that the boys of his school used in summoning
+each other.
+
+“Think he’ll remember that, Mr. Kennedy?” he asked of the trainer.
+
+“Never forget it, will you, Emperor?”
+
+The elephant coughed.
+
+“Never forgets anything. Knows more than any man in the show now,
+because he has lived longer.”
+
+“How old is he?”
+
+“Close to a hundred.”
+
+“You don’t say?” marveled Teddy. “Hope I’ll be able to squeal as loud
+as that when I’m a hundred. Has he got a hole through his trunk?”
+
+“Not that anybody knows of.”
+
+“Come on; I want to see the fellow tame the tiger. I missed that today,
+because he didn’t do it at the afternoon show.”
+
+They found Mr. Sparling standing in front of the cage. He, too, was
+there to watch the performance.
+
+“This looks to me like ready money,” he observed to Phil, nodding his
+head toward the people who were crowding into the tent.
+
+“Mr. Forrest, will you ride Emperor in again tonight? I think that’s
+one of the reasons they have come here,” said the showman, shrewdly
+grasping the least thing that would tend to popularize his show.
+
+“Certainly, sir. I shall enjoy it very much.”
+
+They now turned their attention to the cage where the trainer had begun
+with the savage tiger.
+
+“Bengal is in an ugly temper about something tonight,” announced Mr.
+Sparling in a low tone. “Better be careful, Bob,” he cautioned, after
+having stepped up close to the cage.
+
+“I’ll take care of him,” answered the trainer, without taking his eyes
+from the beast for the fraction of a second.
+
+Phil had heard the dialogue and now drew closer to the cage, stepping
+under the rope and joining Mr. Sparling.
+
+Teddy, of course, not to be left behind, crawled under the rope also.
+
+“Sit down in front,” shouted someone. “We can’t see the animals play.”
+
+In a moment the spectators saw a play that was not down on the bills.
+
+Bob was swinging the whip over Bengal’s nose, the cruel lash cutting
+the tender snout with every blow. But he was not doing it from sheer
+cruelty, as many of the spectators who raised their voices in loud
+protest imagined.
+
+Not understanding wild animals as the trainer did, they did not realize
+that this plucky fellow was fighting for his life, even though he used
+but a slender rawhide in his effort to do so.
+
+Bengal was crowding him. The least mistake on the trainer’s part now
+and the savage tiger would put a quick and terrible end to him.
+
+“Stand back, everybody! Bring the prods!” bellowed Mr. Sparling.
+
+Phil understood that something was wrong, though he never would have
+guessed it from the calm expression on the trainer’s face.
+
+Not a word did the performer speak, but his hand rained blows on the
+nose, while snarl after snarl was spit from between Bengal’s gleaming
+teeth.
+
+The trainer was edging slowly toward the door. He knew that nothing
+could be done with the beast in its present state of terrible temper.
+
+His only hope was that at a favorable moment, when the attendants came
+with their long, iron bars, he might be able to spring from the door at
+his back, which he was trying to reach.
+
+Phil’s mind was working like an automatic machine. He saw now what the
+trainer was attempting to do, and was seeking for some means of helping
+the man. But what could a slender boy hope to do against the power of a
+great, savage brute like Bengal?
+
+Phil concluded there was nothing.
+
+A pistol flashed almost in the face of the two lads. Mr. Sparling had
+started away on a run to fetch the attendants who either had not heard
+or failed to heed his call.
+
+“What did he do that f-f-for?” stammered Teddy.
+
+“To drive the tiger back. It was a blank cartridge that he fired. I
+think the tiger is going to attack him. Yes, there he goes! Oh, that’s
+_terrible_!”
+
+The trainer had been forced against the bars at the back of the cage by
+the animal, whose length was more than the width of the cage itself.
+
+In an unsuspected moment the beast had sprung upon the unfortunate man,
+and with one sweep of his powerful paw had laid the man low.
+
+With a growl of savage joy, the brute settled back against the bars of
+the cage near which the lads were standing.
+
+Women shrieked and men grew pale as they stood helpless to do aught to
+avert the impending tragedy.
+
+Teddy slipped out from under the rope, his face ashen gray. But Phil
+stood his ground. He felt that he _must_ do something.
+
+Then his opportunity came. The beast’s great silken tail popped out
+through the bars against which he was backing.
+
+Phil Forrest, without an instant’s thought of the danger into which he
+was placing himself, sprang forward.
+
+His hands closed over the tail, which he twisted about his right arm in
+a flash, at the same time throwing up his feet and bracing them against
+a wheel of the wagon.
+
+No sooner had he done so than Bengal, uttering a frightful roar,
+whirled. The force of the jerk as the brute turned hurled Phil Forrest
+against the bars of the cage with a crash, and Bengal’s sharp-clawed
+feet made a vicious sweep for the body of the lad pressed so tightly
+against the bars.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+A THRILLING RESCUE
+
+
+“Open the door and let the man out!” shouted Phil, with great presence
+of mind. But no one seemed to have the power to move.
+
+One sweep of the powerful claw and one side of the lad’s clothes was
+literally stripped from him, though he had managed to shrink back just
+far enough to save himself from the needle like claws of the tiger.
+
+At this moment men came rushing from other parts of the tent. Some bore
+iron rods, while two or three carried tent poles and sticks—anything
+that the circus men could lay their hands upon.
+
+Mr. Sparling was in the lead of the procession that dashed through the
+crowd, hurling the people right and left as they ran.
+
+With every spring of the tiger Phil was being thrown against the bars
+with terrific force, but still he clung to the tail that was wrapped
+about his arm, hanging on with desperate courage.
+
+Though the lad was getting severe punishment, he was accomplishing just
+what he had hoped for—to keep Bengal busy until help arrived to
+liberate the unconscious trainer, who lay huddled against the bars on
+the opposite side of the cage.
+
+“Poke one of the tent poles in to him and let him bite it!” roared Mr.
+Sparling. “Half a dozen of you get around behind the cage and when we
+have his attention one of you pull Bob out. Keep your poles in the
+opening when you open the door, so Bengal doesn’t jump out. Everybody
+stand back!”
+
+The commands of the showman came out like so many explosions of a
+pistol. But it had its effect. His men sprang to their work like
+machines.
+
+In the meantime Mr. Sparling himself had grabbed the tail of the beast,
+taking a hold higher up than Phil’s.
+
+“Pull the boy off. He’s hanging on like a bull dog. If you had half his
+sense you’d have put a stop to this mix-up minutes ago.”
+
+Teddy by this time had gotten in under the ropes again, and, grasping
+his companion about the waist, he held on until he had untwisted the
+tiger’s tail from his companion’s arm and released Phil, staggering
+back with his burden against the rope.
+
+Phil’s limp body, the moment Teddy let go of him, collapsed in a heap.
+
+The circus men were too busy at the moment to notice him. One of the
+men had thrust a short tent pole between the bars. Bengal was upon it
+like an avalanche.
+
+Biting, clawing, uttering fierce growls, he tore the hard wood into
+shreds, the man at the other end poking at the beast with all his
+might.
+
+Cautiously the rear door of the cage was opened. Two men grasped Bob by
+the shoulders and hauled him out with a quick pull.
+
+The crowd shouted in approval.
+
+“All out! Let go!” shouted Mr. Sparling.
+
+It took the strength of two men to pull the tent pole from Bengal’s
+grip. The instant he lost the pole the beast whirled and pounced upon
+the spot where he had left his victim.
+
+Finding that he had lost his prey, the savage beast uttered roar upon
+roar, that made every spectator in the tent tremble and draw back,
+fearing the animal would break through the bars and attack them.
+
+“Where’s that boy?”
+
+“Here he is, and I guess he’s hurt,” answered Teddy.
+
+“Give him to me. I’ll get him outside where we can get some decent air
+into him. Is he much hurt?”
+
+“I—I don’t know.”
+
+The showman grabbed Phil, and as a helper lifted the bottom of the
+tent’s side wall, Mr. Sparling ran to his own small tent with the
+unconscious Phil.
+
+“Fetch a pail of water.”
+
+Teddy ran for the cook tent to get the water. He was amazed to find no
+cook tent there. Instead, there remained only the open plot of grass,
+trampled down, with a litter of papers and refuse scattered about.
+
+By the time he had dashed back to the tent to inquire where he could
+find a pail, one of the showmen had brought some water and Mr. Sparling
+was bathing Phil’s face with it.
+
+He had made a hasty examination of the unconscious boy’s wounds, which
+he did not believe were serious.
+
+Phil soon came to, and by that time the show’s doctor had arrived,
+having been in attendance on the wounded animal trainer.
+
+“No; he’ll be sore for a few days, but there’s nothing dangerous about
+those scratches, I should say. I’ll dress the wounds and he can go on
+about his business,” was the surgeon’s verdict.
+
+“I’ve got to ride Emperor in tonight,” objected Phil.
+
+“You’ll do nothing of the sort. You’ll get into my wagon and go to bed.
+That’s what you will do, and right quick, at that.”
+
+“But,” urged the lad, “the people will all think I am seriously hurt if
+they see no more of me. Don’t you think it would be a good plan for me
+to show myself? They are liable to be uneasy all through the
+performance. If I show myself they will settle down and forget all
+about it in a few minutes.”
+
+Mr. Sparling turned to his assistant with a significant nod.
+
+“I told you that boy was a natural born showman. You can’t stop that
+kind with a club. Can you stand up alone?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+Phil scrambled to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the table.
+
+“I’ll be all right after I walk about a bit. How long before the
+elephants go in?”
+
+“You’ve got fifteen minutes yet.”
+
+“Then I may go on?”
+
+“Yes, yes, go on. You’ll never be satisfied if you don’t. But I ought
+to take you over my knee and give you a sound walloping.”
+
+“Thank you. How is Mr.—Mr.—the trainer?”
+
+“He isn’t badly hurt, thanks to your presence of mind, young man,”
+answered the surgeon.
+
+“That makes two people you’ve saved today, Forrest,” emphasized Mr.
+Sparling. “We will call that a day’s work. You have earned your meal
+ticket. Better run back to the dressing tent and ask them to fix up
+some clothes for you. Ask for Mrs. Waite, the wardrobe woman. Teddy
+Tucker, you run in and tell Mr. Kennedy, who has charge of the
+elephants, that Phil will ride tonight, and to wait until he gets in.”
+
+Both boys hurried away on their respective missions. All that Mrs.
+Waite had that would come anywhere near fitting Phil was a yellow robe
+that looked like a night gown. Phil grinned as he tucked it under his
+arm and hurried back to the menagerie tent. As he passed through the
+“big top” he saw that it was filling up rapidly.
+
+“I guess we are going to have a good house tonight,” muttered the lad
+with a pleased smile. It did not occur to him that he himself was
+responsible for a large part of the attendance—that the part he had
+played in the exciting incidents of the day had done more to advertise
+the Great Sparling Combined Shows than any other one factor.
+
+“I am all ready, Mr. Kennedy,” announced Phil, running to the elephant
+quarters. The horns were blowing the signal for the grand entry, so the
+lad grasped the head harness, as Emperor stooped, and was quickly
+hoisted to the position in which he would enter the ring.
+
+When the people saw that it was indeed Phil they set up a great shout.
+The lad was pale but resolute. As he went through the performance, his
+wounds smarted frightfully. At times the pain made him dizzy.
+
+But Phil smiled bravely, waving his hands to the cheering people.
+
+After the finish of the act Mr. Kennedy headed the elephants into the
+concourse, the open space between the rings and the seats, making a
+complete circuit of the tent, so that all might see Phil Forrest.
+
+“This is a kind of farewell appearance, you know,” grinned Kennedy. And
+so the audience took it.
+
+The lad’s former companions shouted all manner of things to him.
+
+“Good-bye, Phil!”
+
+“Don’t stick your head in the lion’s mouth.”
+
+“Be careful when you twist the tiger’s tail. Better put some salt on it
+before you do.”
+
+“We’ll look out for Uncle Abner.”
+
+Phil was grinning broadly as he rode back into the menagerie tent.
+Everybody in town now knew that he had joined the circus, which brought
+forth a variety of comments. Some said it would be the end of the boy,
+but Phil Forrest knew that a boy could behave himself with a circus
+just as well as in any other occupation, and so far as his observations
+went, the circus people were much better than some folks he knew at
+home.
+
+No sooner had they gotten into the menagerie tent than a sudden bustle
+and excitement were apparent. Confused shouts were heard on all sides.
+Teams, fully harnessed, were being led into the tent, quarter-poles
+were coming down without regard to where they struck, everybody
+appearing to have gone suddenly crazy.
+
+“They’re striking the tent,” nodded Mr. Kennedy, noting the boy’s
+wonderment. “You had better look out for yourself. Don’t stand in the
+way or you may get hurt,” he warned.
+
+“Get the bulls out!” called a man, hurrying by.
+
+“They’re getting,” answered Kennedy.
+
+“What do they mean by that?”
+
+“In circus parlance, the ‘bulls’ are the elephants. Where you going to
+ride tonight?”
+
+“I don’t know. Hello, there’s my friend Teddy. I guess I had better
+attach myself to him or he may get lost.”
+
+As a matter of fact, Phil was not sure where he was himself, activities
+were following each other with such surprising rapidity.
+
+But the lads stuck to their ground until it was no longer safe to do
+so. Phil was determined to see all there was to be seen, and what he
+saw he remembered. He had no need to be told after that, providing he
+understood the meaning of a certain thing at first.
+
+Observing that one man was holding to the peak rope, and that it was
+rapidly getting the best of him, both lads sprang to his assistance.
+
+“That’s right, boys. That’s the way to do it. Always be ready to take
+advantage of every opening. You’ll learn faster that way, and you’ll
+both be full-fledged showmen before you know it.”
+
+“O Mr. Sparling,” exclaimed Phil, after others had relieved them on the
+rope.
+
+“Yes? What is it?”
+
+“I have been wanting to see you, to ask what you wish us to do
+tonight—where we are to travel?”
+
+“You may sleep in my wagon. I’ll take a horse for tonight.”
+
+“I could not think of doing such a thing. No, Mr. Sparling, if I am to
+be a circus man, I want to do just as the rest of them do. Where do the
+other performers sleep?”
+
+“Wherever they can find places. Some few of the higher paid ones have
+berths in wagons. Others sleep in the band wagon. The rest, I guess,
+don’t sleep at all, except after we get into a town. The menagerie
+outfit will be leaving town very soon now. You may go through with them
+if you wish.”
+
+“If you do not object, I think I should prefer to remain until the rest
+of the show goes out.”
+
+“Suit yourself.”
+
+Mr. Sparling understood how the lads felt, and perhaps it would be
+better to let them break in at once, he reasoned. They would become
+seasoned much sooner.
+
+The tent was taken down and packed away in the wagons in an almost
+incredibly short time.
+
+“Come on; let’s go into the circus tent and see what’s going on there,”
+suggested Teddy.
+
+Phil agreed, and the lads strolled in. They found the performance
+nearly over. When it was finished quite a large number remained to see
+the “grand concert” that followed.
+
+While this was going on there was a crash and a clatter as the men
+ripped up and loaded the seats, piling them into waiting wagons that
+had been driven into the tent from the rear so as not to be in the way
+of the people going out.
+
+“It’s more fun to watch the men work than it is to see the concert.
+That concert’s a bum show,” averred Teddy, thrusting his hands in his
+pockets and turning his back on the “grand concert.”
+
+“I agree with you,” laughed Phil. “There’s nothing but the freaks
+there, and we’ll see them, after this, every time we go for our meals.”
+
+“Have you been in the dressing tent yet?” asked Teddy.
+
+“No, I haven’t had time. We’ll have to look in there tomorrow, though I
+don’t think they care about having people visit them unless they belong
+there. Just now we don’t. Do you start work in the cook tent tomorrow?”
+
+“Yes. I am to be the champion coffee drawer. I expect they will have my
+picture on the billboards after a little. Wouldn’t I look funny with a
+pitcher of hot, steaming coffee in my hand leaping over a table in the
+cook tent?” and Teddy laughed heartily at the thought. “I’ll bet I’d
+make a hit.”
+
+“You mean you would get hit.”
+
+“Well, maybe.”
+
+The boys hung about until the big top had disappeared from the lot. The
+tent poles and boxes of properties were being loaded on the wagons,
+while out on the field, the ring horses, performing ponies and the like
+stood sleeping, waiting for the moment when they should be aroused for
+the start.
+
+“Come on, Teddy; let’s you and I go make up our beds.”
+
+“Where are they?”
+
+“We’ll have to ask the porter,” laughed Phil, who had traveled a little
+with his parents years before.
+
+“It’s a shame that that old tiger has to have a cage all to himself. We
+could make up a fine bed if we had half of his cage and some blankets,”
+complained Teddy.
+
+“Thank you. I should prefer to walk. I have had all the argument I want
+with that beast. Let’s go try the band wagon.”
+
+“All right; that would be fine to sleep way up there.”
+
+Laughing and chattering, the lads hunted about on the lot until they
+found the great glittering band wagon. Being now covered with canvas to
+protect it from the weather, they had difficulty in making it out, but
+finally they discovered it, off near the road that ran by the grounds.
+Four horses were hitched to it, while the driver lay asleep on the high
+seat.
+
+“Where will we get in?”
+
+“I don’t know, Teddy; we will climb up and find out.”
+
+Getting on the rear wheel they pulled themselves up, and finding the
+canvas covering loose, threw it open. Teddy plumped in feet first.
+
+Immediately there followed such a howling, such a snarling and torrent
+of invective that, startled as he was, Phil lost his balance on the
+wheel and fell off.
+
+No sooner had he struck the ground than a dark figure came shooting
+from above, landing on him and nearly knocking all the breath out of
+his body.
+
+Phil threw off the burden, which upon investigation proved to be Teddy
+Tucker.
+
+“Wha—what happened?” stammered Phil. “Sounds as if we had gotten into a
+wild animal cage.”
+
+“I—I walked on somebody’s face and he threw me out,” answered Teddy
+ruefully. Phil leaned against the wagon wheel and laughed until his
+throat ached.
+
+“Get out of here! What do you mean?” bellowed an angry voice over their
+heads. “Think my face is a tight rope to be walked on by every Rube
+that comes along?”
+
+“Come—come on away, Teddy. We made a mistake. We got into the wrong
+berth.”
+
+“Here’s another wagon, Phil. They’re just hitching the horses. Let’s
+try this.”
+
+“All right, it’s a canvas wagon. Go ahead, we’ll try it.”
+
+“I’ve tried one wagon. It’s your turn now,” growled Teddy.
+
+“I guess you’re right. If I get thrown out you catch me the same as I
+did you,” laughed Phil.
+
+“Yes, you _caught_ me, didn’t you?”
+
+Phil climbed up, but with more caution than Teddy had exercised in the
+case of the band wagon.
+
+“Anybody living in this bedroom tonight?” questioned Phil of the
+driver.
+
+“Guess you are. First come first served. Pile in. You’re the kid that
+rode the bull, ain’t you?”
+
+“And twisted the tiger’s tail,” added Teddy.
+
+“All right. Probably some others will be along later, but I’ll see to
+it that they don’t throw you out.”
+
+“Thank you. Come on up, Teddy; it’s all right.”
+
+Teddy Tucker hastily scrambled up into the wagon which proved to be a
+canvas wagon—an open wagon, over which a canvas cover was stretched in
+case of storm only.
+
+“Where’s the bed clothes?” demanded Teddy.
+
+“I guess the skies will have to be our quilts tonight,” answered Phil.
+
+The boys succeeded in crawling down between the folds of the canvas,
+however, and, snuggling close together, settled down for their first
+night on the road with a circus. Soon the wagons began to move in
+response to a chorus of hoarse shouts. The motion of the canvas wagon
+very soon lulled the lads to sleep, as the big wagon show slowly
+started away and disappeared in the soft summer night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+THE DAWNING OF A NEW DAY
+
+
+“Hi! Stop the train! Stop the train!” howled Teddy, as he landed flat
+on his back on the hard ground.
+
+“Here, here! What are you fellows doing?” shouted Phil, scrambling to
+his feet.
+
+“I dreamed I was in a train of cars and they ran off the track,” said
+Teddy, struggling to his feet and rubbing his shins gingerly. “Did you
+do that?”
+
+“You bet. Think I can wait for you kids to take your beauty sleep?
+Don’t you suppose this show’s got something else to do besides furnish
+sleeping accommodations for lazy kids? Take hold here, and help us get
+this canvas out if you want any breakfast.”
+
+“Take it out yourself,” growled Teddy, dodging the flat of the
+canvasman’s hand.
+
+The lads had been hurled from their sleeping place by a rough tentman
+in a hurry to get at his work. The chill of the early dawn was in the
+air. The boys stood, with shoulders hunched forward, shivering, their
+teeth chattering, not knowing where they were and caring still less.
+They knew only that they were most uncomfortable. The glamor was gone.
+They were face to face with the hardships of the calling they had
+chosen, though they did not know that it was only a beginning of those
+hardships.
+
+“B-r-r-r!” shivered Teddy.
+
+“T-h-h-h-at’s what I say,” chattered Phil.
+
+“Say, are you kids going to get busy, or do you want me to help you
+to?”
+
+Phil did not object to work, but he did not like the way the canvasman
+spoke to them.
+
+“I guess you’ll have to do your own work. Come on, Teddy; let’s take a
+run and warm ourselves up.”
+
+Hand in hand the lads started off across the field. The field was so
+dark that they could scarcely distinguish objects about them. Here and
+there they dodged wagons and teams that stood like silent sentinels in
+the uncertain light.
+
+“Turn a little, Teddy. We’ll be lost before we know it, if we don’t
+watch out—”
+
+“Ouch! We’re lost already!”
+
+The ground seemed suddenly to give way beneath them. Both lads were
+precipitated into a stream of water that stretched across one end of
+the circus lot.
+
+Shouting and struggling about they finally floundered to the bank,
+drenched from head to foot. If they had been shivering before, they
+were suffering from violent attacks of ague now.
+
+“Whew! I’m freezing to death!” cried Phil.
+
+“I feel like the North Pole on Christmas morning,” added Teddy. “I wish
+I was home, so I could thaw out behind the kitchen stove.”
+
+“Brace up, Teddy. This is only the beginning of the fun. We shall have
+worse experiences than this, late in the fall, when the weather gets
+cool; that is, if they do not get enough of us in the meantime and send
+us away.”
+
+“I—I wish they would send us home now.”
+
+“Come now; we’ve got to run again. We shall surely take our death of
+cold, if we stand here much longer.”
+
+“Run? No, thank you. I’ve had one run.”
+
+“And you don’t want another? Is that it?”
+
+“Not I.”
+
+“Don’t know as I blame you. Well, if you don’t want to run, just stand
+in one place and jump up and down. Whip your hands, and you’ll see how
+soon it will start your blood to circulating,” advised Phil, who
+immediately proceeded to put his own theory into execution. “That feel
+better?”
+
+“Yes, some,” replied Teddy, rather doubtfully. “But I could be warmer.
+I wonder what time the cook tent will be up.”
+
+“That’s an idea. Suppose we go over and find out?”
+
+“Yes, but where is it?”
+
+“I don’t know. But we won’t find it if we stand here.”
+
+They started off again, this time exercising more caution as to where
+their feet touched. They had not gone far before they came upon some
+men who were driving small stakes in the ground, marking out the spot
+where one of the tents was to be pitched.
+
+“Can you tell us where the cook tent is going up?” asked Phil politely.
+
+“North side of the field,” grunted the man, not very good-naturedly.
+
+“Which way is north?”
+
+“Get a compass, get a compass,” was the discourteous answer.
+
+“He’s a grouch. Come along,” urged Teddy Tucker.
+
+A few moments later, attracted by a light that looked like a fire, the
+lads hurried toward it.
+
+“Where will we find the cook tent?” questioned Phil again.
+
+“Right here,” was the surprising answer.
+
+“What time will it be ready?”
+
+“About seven o’clock. What’s the matter, hungry?”
+
+“More cold than hungry,” replied Phil, his teeth chattering.
+
+“Got to get used to that. Come here. I’ve got something that will
+doctor you up in no time,” announced the man in a cheerful voice, so
+different from the answers the lads had received to their questions
+that morning, that they were suddenly imbued with new courage.
+
+“What is it?” asked Phil.
+
+“Coffee, my lad. We always make coffee the first thing when we get in,
+these chilly mornings. The men work much better after getting something
+warm inside them. Got a cup?”
+
+They had not.
+
+“Wait, I’ll get you one,” said the accommodating showman.
+
+Never had anything tasted so good as did the coffee that morning. It
+was excellent coffee, too, and the boys drank two cups apiece.
+
+“We mustn’t drink any more,” warned Phil.
+
+“Why not?” wondered Teddy.
+
+“Because we shall be so nervous that we shall not be able to work
+today. And, by the way, were I in your place, I should get busy here
+and help in the cook tent until you are told to do something else. I
+think it will make a good impression on Mr. Sparling.”
+
+Teddy consented rather grudgingly.
+
+“I’ll turn in and do something at the same time. What can we do to help
+you, sir? That coffee was very good.”
+
+“Might get busy and unpack some dishes from those barrels. Be careful
+that you don’t break any of them.”
+
+“All right. Where shall we put them?”
+
+“Pile them on the ground, all the dishes of the same size together. Be
+sure to set a lantern by them so nobody falls over them in the dark.”
+
+The boys, glad of some task to perform, began their work with a will.
+With something to do it was surprising how quickly they forgot their
+misfortunes. In a short time they were laughing and joking with the
+good-natured cooktent man and making the dishes fairly fly out of the
+barrels.
+
+“Guess I’ll have to keep you two boys with my outfit,” grinned the
+showman.
+
+“I think Mr. Sparling said my friend, Teddy here, was to work in the
+cook tent for the present.”
+
+“All right, Mr. Teddy. There’s one thing about working in the cook tent
+that ought to please you.”
+
+“What’s that?”
+
+“You can piece between meals all you want to. If you are like most
+boys, you ought to have a good healthy appetite all the time, except
+when you are sleeping.”
+
+“That’s right. I could eat an elephant steak now—right this minute. How
+long before breakfast?”
+
+“Seven o’clock, I told you.”
+
+“What time does Mr. Sparling get up?” inquired Phil.
+
+“Up? Ask me what time he goes to bed. I can answer one question as well
+as the other. Nobody knows. He’s always around when you least expect
+him. There he is now.”
+
+The owner was striding toward the cook tent for his morning cup of
+coffee.
+
+“Good morning, sir,” greeted the boys, pausing in their work long
+enough to touch their hats, after which they continued unpacking the
+dishes.
+
+“Morning, boys. I see you are up early and getting right at it. That’s
+right. No showman was ever made out of a sleepy-head. Where did you
+sleep last night?”
+
+“In a wagon on a pile of canvas,” answered Phil.
+
+“And they threw us out of bed this morning,” Teddy informed him, with a
+grimace.
+
+Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.
+
+“And we fell in a creek,” added Teddy.
+
+“Well, well, you certainly are having your share of experiences.”
+
+“Will you allow me to make a suggestion, Mr. Sparling?” asked Phil.
+
+“Of course. You need not ask that question. What is it?”
+
+“I think I ought to have some sort of a costume if I am to continue to
+ride Emperor in the grand entry.”
+
+“H-m-m-m. What kind do you think you want?”
+
+“Could I wear tights?”
+
+Mr. Sparling was about to laugh, but one glance into the earnest eyes
+of Phil Forrest told him that the boy’s interest was wholly in wishing
+to improve the act—not for the sake of showing himself, alone.
+
+“Yes, I think perhaps it might not be a bad idea. You go tell Mrs.
+Waite to fix you up with a suit. But I would prefer to have you wear
+your own clothes today.”
+
+“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
+
+“I’ll tell you why. I telegraphed on to my advance man all about you
+last night, and what you did yesterday will be spread all over town
+here today. It will be a rattling good advertisement. You and the tiger
+are my best drawing cards today,” smiled Mr. Sparling.
+
+“Glad I have proved of some use to you, sir.”
+
+“Use? Use?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Don’t be a fool!” exploded the showman, almost brutally.
+
+Phil’s countenance fell.
+
+“Don’t you understand, yet, that you already have been worth several
+thousand dollars to me?”
+
+“I—I—”
+
+“Well, don’t get a swelled head about it, for—”
+
+“There is no danger of that, sir.”
+
+“And you don’t have to potter around the cook tent working, either.
+That is, not unless you want to.”
+
+“But, I do, Mr. Sparling. I want to learn everything there is to be
+learned about the show business,” protested Phil.
+
+Mr. Sparling regarded him quizzically.
+
+“You’ll do,” he said, turning away.
+
+As soon as the dressing tent had been erected and the baggage was moved
+in, Phil hurried to the entrance of the women’s dressing tent and
+calling for Mrs. Waite, told her what was wanted.
+
+She measured his figure with her eyes, and nodded understandingly.
+
+“Think I’ve got something that will fit you. A young fellow who worked
+on the trapeze fell off and broke a leg. He was just about your size,
+and I guess his tights will be about right for you. Not superstitious,
+are you?”
+
+Phil assured her he was not.
+
+“You will be, after you have been in the show business a while. Wait,
+I’ll get them.”
+
+Phil’s eyes glowed as he saw her returning with a suit of bright red
+tights, trunk and shirt to match.
+
+“Oh, thank you ever so much.”
+
+“You’re welcome. Have you a trunk to keep your stuff in?”
+
+“No; I have only a bag.”
+
+“I’ve got a trunk in here that’s not in use. If you want to drag it
+over to the men’s dressing tent you’re welcome to it.”
+
+Phil soon had the trunk, which he hauled across the open paddock to the
+place where the men were settling their belongings. He espied Mr.
+Miaco, the head clown.
+
+“Does it make any difference where I place my trunk, Mr. Miaco?”
+
+“It does, my lad. The performers’ trunks occupy exactly the same
+position every day during the show year. I’ll pick out a place for you,
+and every morning when you come in you will find your baggage there.
+Let me see. I guess we’ll place you up at the end, next to the side
+wall of the dressing room. You will be more by yourself there. You’ll
+like that, won’t you?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“Going in in costume, today?”
+
+“No, sir. Mr. Sparling thought I had better wear my own clothes today,
+for advertising purposes.”
+
+Miaco nodded understandingly.
+
+“Then you’ll want to fix up again. Been in the gutter?”
+
+“I fell into a ditch in the darkness this morning,” grinned Phil.
+
+“You’ll get used to that. Mr. Ducro, the ringmaster, carries a lantern
+with him so he won’t fall in, but none of the rest of us do. We call
+him Old Diogenes because he always has a lantern in his hand. If you’ll
+take off that suit I’ll put it in shape for you.”
+
+“Undress—here?”
+
+“Sure. You’ll have to get used to that.”
+
+Phil retired to the further end of the tent where his trunk had been
+placed in the meantime, and there took off his clothes, handing them to
+the head clown. Mr. Miaco tossed the lad a bath robe, for the morning
+was still chilly.
+
+“After you get broken in you will have to do all this for yourself.
+There’s nothing like the show business to teach a fellow to depend upon
+himself. He soon becomes a jack-of-all-trades. As soon as you can
+you’ll want to get yourself a rubber coat and a pair of rubber boots.
+We’ll get some beastly weather by-and-by.”
+
+The good-natured clown ran on with much good advice while he was
+sponging and pressing Phil’s clothes. When he had finished, the suit
+looked as if it had just come from a tailor shop.
+
+Phil thanked him warmly.
+
+“Now, you and I will see about some breakfast.”
+
+Reaching the cook tent, the first person Phil set eyes on was his chum,
+Teddy Tucker. Teddy was presiding over the big nickel coffeepot, his
+face flushed with importance. He was bossing the grinning waiters, none
+of whom found it in his heart to get impatient with the new boy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+AN UNEXPECTED HIT
+
+
+“Another turn-away,” decided a ticket taker, casting his eyes over the
+crowds that had gathered for the afternoon performance.
+
+“I guess Mr. Sparling knows his business pretty well,” mused Phil. “He
+knows how to catch the crowd. I wonder how many of them have come here
+to see me. How they would look and stare if they knew I was the kid
+that twisted the tiger’s tail.”
+
+Phil’s color rose.
+
+It was something for a boy who had been a circus performer for less
+than two days to have his name heralded ahead of the show as one of the
+leading attractions.
+
+But Phil Forrest had a level head. He did not delude himself with any
+extravagant idea of his own importance. He knew that what he had done
+was purely the result of accident.
+
+“I’ll do something, someday, that will be worthwhile,” he told himself.
+
+Phil’s act that afternoon was fully as successful as it had been on the
+previous day back in his home town. Besides, he now had more confidence
+in himself. He felt that in a very short time he might be able to keep
+his feet on the elephant’s head without the support of Emperor’s trunk.
+That would be an achievement.
+
+On this particular afternoon he rode with as much confidence as if he
+had been doing it all the season.
+
+“You’ll make a performer,” encouraged Kennedy. “You’ve got the poise
+and everything necessary to make you a good one.”
+
+“What kind, do you think?”
+
+“Any old kind. Do you get dizzy when up in the air?”
+
+“I don’t remember that I have ever been up much further than Emperor
+hoists me,” laughed Phil.
+
+For the next two minutes the man and the boy were too busy with their
+act to continue their conversation. The audience was enthusiastic, and
+they shouted out Phil Forrest’s name several times, which made him
+smile happily.
+
+“What would you advise me to do, Mr. Kennedy?” he asked as the
+elephants started to leave the ring, amid the plaudits of the
+spectators.
+
+“Ever try the rings?”
+
+“Yes, but not so high up as those that Rod and his partners perform
+on.”
+
+“Height doesn’t make much difference. Get them to let the rings down so
+you can reach them, then each day raise them a little higher, if you
+find you can work on them.”
+
+“Thank you. Perhaps I’ll try it this afternoon. I am anxious to be a
+real performer. Anybody could do this. Though it’s easy, I think I
+might work up this act of ours to make it rather funny.”
+
+It will be observed that Phil was rapidly falling into the vernacular
+of the showman.
+
+“If you’ve got any ideas we’ll thresh them out. Emperor will be
+willing. He’ll say yes to anything you suggest. What is it?”
+
+“Don’t you think Mr. Sparling would object?”
+
+“Not he. Wait till I get the bulls chained; then we’ll talk.”
+
+After attending to his charges, Mr. Kennedy and Phil stepped behind the
+elephants and sat down on a pile of straw against the side walls of the
+menagerie tent.
+
+Phil confided at length what he had in mind, Kennedy nodding from time
+to time as Phil made points that met with the trainer’s approval.
+
+“Boy, you’ve got a head on you a yard wide. You’ll make your
+everlasting fortune. Why, I’d never even thought of that before.”
+
+“Don’t you think I had better speak to Mr. Sparling?”
+
+Kennedy reflected for a moment.
+
+“Perhaps you had better do so. But you needn’t tell him what it is.
+We’ll give them a surprise. Let’s go see the property man and the
+carpenter. We’ll find out what they can do for us.”
+
+Slipping out under the canvas, the two hurried back to the property
+room, an enclosure where all the costumes were kept, together with the
+armor used in the grand entry, and the other trappings employed in the
+show, known as properties.
+
+Mr. Kennedy explained to the property man what was wanted. The latter
+called in the carpenter. After consulting for a few minutes, they
+decided that they could give the elephant trainer and his assistant
+what they sought.
+
+“When will you have it ready?”
+
+“Maybe in time for tonight’s performance, but I can’t promise for
+sure.”
+
+“Thank you,” exclaimed Phil, hurrying away to consult with Mr.
+Sparling.
+
+“I have been thinking out a plan to work up my part of the elephant
+act,” announced Phil, much to the owner’s surprise.
+
+“You have, eh?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“What is it?”
+
+“I was in hopes you wouldn’t ask me that. I wanted to surprise you.”
+
+Mr. Sparling shook his head doubtfully.
+
+“I’m afraid you haven’t had experience enough to warrant my trusting so
+important a matter to you,” answered the showman, knowing how serious a
+bungled act might be, and how it would be likely to weaken the whole
+show.
+
+Phil’s face showed his disappointment.
+
+“Mr. Kennedy says it will be a fine act. I have seen the property man
+and the carpenter, and they both think it’s great. They are getting my
+properties ready now.”
+
+“So, so?” wondered the owner, raising his eyebrows ever so little. “You
+seem to be making progress, young man. Let’s see, how long have you
+been in the show business?” he reflected.
+
+“Twenty-four hours,” answered Phil promptly.
+
+Mr. Sparling grinned.
+
+“M-m-m-m. You’re certainly getting on fast. Who told you you might give
+orders to my property man and my carpenter, sir?” the proprietor
+demanded, somewhat sternly.
+
+“I took that upon myself, sir. I’m sure it would improve the act, even
+though I have not had as much experience as I might have. Will you let
+me try it?” demanded the boy boldly.
+
+“I’ll think about it. Yes, I’ll think about it. H-m-m-m! H-m-m-m!”
+
+Thus encouraged, Phil left his employer, going in to watch some of the
+other acts.
+
+About that time Mr. Sparling found it convenient to make a trip back to
+the property man’s room, where he had quite a long talk with that
+functionary. The proprietor came away smiling and nodding.
+
+About an hour later Phil sauntered out and passed in front of Mr.
+Sparling’s tent, hoping the showman would see him and call him in.
+
+Phil was not disappointed. Mr. Sparling did that very thing.
+
+“How’s that new act of yours coming along, young man?” he demanded.
+
+“I have done no more than think it over since talking with you a little
+while ago. If the props are ready Mr. Kennedy and I will have a quiet
+rehearsal this afternoon. That is, if we can shoo everybody out of the
+tent and you are willing we should try it. How about it, sir?”
+
+“I must say you are a most persistent young man.”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“And what if this act falls down flat? What then?”
+
+“It mustn’t.”
+
+“But if it does?”
+
+“Then, sir, I’ll give up the show business and go back to Edmeston,
+where I’ll hire out to work on a farm. If I can’t do a little thing
+like this I guess the farm will be the best place for me.”
+
+Phil was solemn and he meant every word he said. Mr. Sparling, however,
+unable to maintain his serious expression, laughed heartily.
+
+“My boy, you are all right. Go ahead and work up your act. You have my
+full permission to do that in your own way, acting, of course, under
+the approval of Mr. Kennedy. He knows what would go with his bulls.”
+
+“Thank you, thank you very much,” exclaimed Phil, impulsively. “I hope
+you will be pleasantly surprised.”
+
+“I expect to be.”
+
+Phil ran as fast as his legs would carry him to convey the good news to
+Mr. Kennedy. Active preparations followed, together with several
+hurried trips to the property room. The property man was getting along
+famously with his part of the plan, and both Phil and Mr. Kennedy
+approved of what had been done thus far.
+
+According to programme, after the afternoon show had been finished and
+all the performers had gone to the cook tent the rehearsal took place
+in the menagerie tent. Faithful to his promise, Mr. Sparling kept away,
+but a pair of eyes representing him was peering through a pin-hole in
+the canvas stretched across the main opening where the ticket takers
+stood when at work.
+
+“That’s great, kid! Great, you bet!” shouted Mr. Kennedy after a
+successful trial of their new apparatus.
+
+With light heart, an expansive grin overspreading his countenance, the
+lad ran to the cook tent for his supper. He came near missing it as it
+was, for the cook was about to close the tent. Mr. Sparling, who was
+standing near the exit, nodded to the chief steward to give Phil and
+Mr. Kennedy their suppers.
+
+“Well, did the rehearsal fall down?” he asked, with a quizzical smile
+on his face.
+
+“It fell down, but not in the way you think,” laughed Phil happily.
+
+No further questions were asked of him.
+
+That night, when the grand entry opened the show to a packed house, a
+shout of laughter from the great assemblage greeted the entrance of old
+Emperor. Emperor was clad in a calico gown of ancient style, with a
+market basket tucked in the curl of his trunk. But the most humorous
+part of the long-suffering elephant’s makeup was his head gear.
+
+There, perched jauntily to one side was the most wonderful bonnet that
+any of the vast audience ever had gazed upon. It was tied with bright
+red ribbons under Emperor’s chops with a collection of vari-colored,
+bobbing roses protruding from its top. Altogether it was a very
+wonderful piece of head gear.
+
+The further the act proceeded the more the humor of Emperor’s makeup
+appeared to impress the audience. They laughed and laughed until the
+tears ran down their cheeks, while the elephant himself, appearing to
+share in the humor of the hour, never before had indulged in so many
+funny antics.
+
+Mr. Kennedy, familiar with side-splitting exhibitions, forgot himself
+so far as actually to laugh out loud.
+
+But where was Phil Forrest? Thus far everybody had been too much
+interested in the old lady with the trunk and the market basket to give
+a thought to the missing boy, though some of the performers found
+themselves wondering if he had closed with the show already.
+
+Those of the performers not otherwise engaged at the moment were
+assembled inside the big top at one side of the bandstand, fairly
+holding their sides with laughter over old Emperor’s exhibition.
+
+Standing back in the shadow of the seats, where the rays from the
+gasoline lamps did not reach, stood Mr. Sparling, a pleased smile on
+his face, his eyes twinkling with merriment. It was a good act that
+could draw from James Sparling these signs of approval.
+
+The act was nearing its close.
+
+The audience thought they had seen the best of it. But there was still
+a surprise to come—a surprise that they did not even dream of.
+
+The time was at hand for the elephants to rear in a grand finale. An
+attendant quietly led Jupiter from the ring and to his quarters,
+Emperor making a circuit of the sawdust arena to cover the going of the
+other elephant and that there might be no cessation of action in the
+exhibition.
+
+Emperor and his trainer finally halted, standing facing the reserved
+seats, as motionless as statues.
+
+The audience sat silent and expectant. They felt that something still
+was before them, but what they had not the least idea, of course.
+
+“Up, Emperor!” commanded Mr. Kennedy in a quiet voice. “All ready,
+Phil.”
+
+The elephant reared slowly on its hind legs, going higher and higher,
+as it did in its regular performance.
+
+As he went up, the bonnet on Emperor’s head was seen to take on sudden
+life. The old calico gown fell away from the huge beast at the same
+time, leaving him clothed in a brilliant blanket of white and gold.
+
+But a long drawn “a-h-h-h,” rippled over the packed seats as the old
+elephant’s bonnet suddenly collapsed.
+
+Out of the ruins rose a slender, supple figure, topping the pyramid of
+elephant flesh in a graceful poise. The figure, clad in red silk
+tights, appeared to be that of a beautiful girl.
+
+The audience broke out into a thunder of approval, their feet drumming
+on the board seats sounding not unlike the rattle of musketry.
+
+The girl’s hand was passed around to the back of her waist, where it
+lingered for an instant, then both hands were thrown forward just as a
+diver does before taking the plunge.
+
+“Ready?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“Fly!”
+
+The young girl floated out and off from the elephant’s back, landing
+gently on her feet just outside the sawdust ring.
+
+Emperor, at this juncture, threw himself forward on his forelegs,
+stretched out his trunk, encircling the performer’s waist and lifting
+her clear off the ground.
+
+At that moment the supposed young woman stripped her blonde wig from
+her head, revealing the fact that the supposed girl was no girl at all.
+It was a boy, and that boy was Phil Forrest.
+
+Emperor, holding his young friend at full length ahead of him, started
+rapidly for his quarters, Phil lying half on his side, appearing to be
+floating on the air, save for the black trunk that held him securely in
+its grip.
+
+At this the audience fairly howled in its surprise and delight, but
+Phil never varied his pose by a hair’s breadth until Emperor finally
+set him down, flushed and triumphant, in the menagerie tent.
+
+At that moment Phil became conscious of a figure running toward him.
+
+He discovered at once that it was Mr. Sparling.
+
+Grasping both the lad’s hands, the showman wrung them until it seemed
+to Phil as if his arms would be wrenched from their sockets.
+
+“Great, great, great!” cried the owner of the show.
+
+“Did you like it?” questioned the blushing Phil.
+
+“Like it? Like it? Boy, it’s the greatest act I ever saw. It’s a
+winner. Come back with me.”
+
+“What, into the ring?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But what shall I do?”
+
+“You don’t have to do anything. You’ve done it already. Show yourself,
+that’s all. Hurry! Don’t you hear them howling like a band of Comanche
+Indians?”
+
+“Y-yes.”
+
+“They want you.”
+
+By this time Mr. Sparling was fairly dragging Phil along with him. As
+they entered the big top the cheering broke out afresh.
+
+Phil was more disturbed than ever before in his life. It seemed as
+though his legs would collapse under him.
+
+“Buck up! Buck up!” snapped the showman. “You are not going to get an
+attack of stage fright at this late hour, are you?”
+
+That was exactly what was the matter with Phil Forrest. He was nearly
+scared out of his wits, but he did not realize the nature of his
+affliction.
+
+“Bow and kiss your hand to them,” admonished the showman.
+
+Phil did so, but his face refused to smile. He couldn’t have smiled at
+that moment to save his life.
+
+All at once he wrenched himself loose from Mr. Sparling’s grip, and ran
+full speed for the dressing tent. He had not gone more than a dozen
+feet before he tripped over a rope, landing on head and shoulders. But
+Phil was up like a rubber man and off again as if every animal in the
+menagerie was pursuing him.
+
+The spectators catching the meaning of his flight, stood up in their
+seats and howled lustily.
+
+Phil Forrest had made a hit that comes to few men in the sawdust arena.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+A STROKE OF GOOD FORTUNE
+
+
+“That was a knockout, kid,” nodded Mr. Miaco, with emphasis. “I’m
+laughing on the inside of me yet. I don’t dare let my face laugh, for
+fear the wrinkles will break through my makeup.”
+
+“Thank you,” smiled Phil, tugging at his silk tights, that fitted so
+closely as to cause him considerable trouble in stripping them off.
+
+“You’ll have the whole show jealous of you if you don’t watch out. But
+don’t get a swelled head—”
+
+“Not unless I fall off and bump it,” laughed Phil. “Where do I wash?”
+
+“You always want to get a pail of water before you undress.”
+
+“Say, Phil, did you really fly?” queried Teddy, who was standing by
+eyeing his companion admiringly.
+
+“Sure. Didn’t you see me?”
+
+“I did and I didn’t. Will you show me how to fly like that?”
+
+“’Course I will. You come in under the big top tomorrow after the show
+and I’ll give you a lesson.”
+
+Teddy had not happened to observe the simple mechanical arrangement
+that had permitted the young circus performer to carry out his flying
+act.
+
+“I reckon you ought to get a dollar a day for that stunt,” decided
+Teddy.
+
+“Yes, I think so myself,” grinned Phil.
+
+Teddy now turned his attention to Mr. Miaco, who, made up for his clown
+act in the ring, presented a most grotesque appearance.
+
+“How do I look?” asked the clown, noting the lad’s observant gaze.
+
+“You look as if you’d stuck your head in a flour barrel,” grunted
+Teddy.
+
+“Ho ho,” laughed the clown. “I’ll have to try that on the audience.
+That’s a good joke. To look at you, one wouldn’t think it of you,
+either.”
+
+“Oh, that’s nothing. I can say funnier things than that when I want to.
+Why—”
+
+But their conversation was cut short by the band striking up the tune
+to which Mr. Miaco always entered the ring.
+
+“Listen to me, kid. You’ll hear them laugh when I tell ’em the story,”
+he called back. And they did. The audience roared when the funny man
+told them what his young friend had said.
+
+His work for the day having been finished, Phil bethought himself of
+his trunk, which had not yet been packed. His costume was suspended
+from a line in the dressing tent where many other costumes were hanging
+to air and dry after the strenuous labors of their owners.
+
+Phil took his slender belongings down, shook them out well and laid
+them in the trunk that Mrs. Waite had given him. It was too late for
+Phil to get his bag from the baggage wagon, so with a grin he locked
+his tights and his wig in the trunk.
+
+“Guess they won’t break their backs lifting that outfit,” he mused.
+
+Phil then strolled in to watch the show. He found many new points of
+interest and much that was instructive, as he studied each act
+attentively and with the keenness of one who had been in the show
+business all his life.
+
+“Someday I’ll have a show like this myself,” nodded the boy. He did not
+know that he expressed his thoughts aloud until he noticed that the
+people sitting nearest to him were regarding him with amused smiles.
+
+Phil quickly repressed his audible comments.
+
+The show was soon over; then came the noise and the confusion of the
+breaking up. The illusion was gone—the glamor was a thing of the past.
+The lad strolled about slowly in search of his companion, whom he
+eventually found in the dressing tent.
+
+“Teddy, isn’t it about time you and I went to bed?” he asked.
+
+“Oh, I don’t know. Circus people sleep when there isn’t anything else
+to do. Where we going to sleep?”
+
+“Same place, I presume, if no one gets ahead of us.”
+
+“They’d better not. I’ll throw them out if they do.”
+
+Phil laughed good-naturedly.
+
+“If I remember correctly, somebody was thrown out last night and this
+morning, but it didn’t happen to be the other fellow. I’m hungry; wish
+I had something to eat.”
+
+“So am I,” agreed Teddy.
+
+“You boys should get a sandwich or so and keep the stuff in your trunk
+while we are playing these country towns. When we get into the cities,
+where they have restaurants, you can get a lunch downtown after you
+have finished your act and then be back in time to go out with the
+wagons,” Mr. Miaco informed them. “You’ll pick up these little tricks
+as we go along, and it won’t be long before you are full-fledged
+showmen. You are pretty near that point already.”
+
+The lads strolled out on the lot and began hunting for their wagon.
+They found nothing that looked like it for sometime and had about
+concluded that the canvas wagon had gone, when they chanced to come
+across the driver of the previous night, who directed them to where
+they would find it.
+
+“The wagon isn’t loaded yet. You’ll have to wait half an hour or so,”
+he said.
+
+They thanked him and went on in the direction indicated, where they
+soon found that which they were in search of.
+
+“I think we had better wait here until it is loaded,” advised Phil,
+throwing himself down on the ground.
+
+“This having to hunt around over a ten-acre lot for your bedroom every
+night isn’t as much fun as you would think, is it?” grinned Teddy.
+
+“Might be worse. I have an idea we haven’t begun to experience the real
+hardships of the circus life.” And indeed they had not.
+
+Soon after that the wagon was loaded, and, bidding the driver a cheery
+good night, the circus boys tumbled in and crawled under the canvas.
+
+They were awakened sometime before daylight by a sudden heavy downpour
+of rain. The boys were soaked to the skin, the water having run in
+under the canvas until they were lying in a puddle of water.
+
+There was thunder and lightning. Phil scrambled out first and glanced
+up at the driver, who, clothed in oilskins, was huddled on his seat
+fast asleep. He did not seem to be aware that there was anything
+unusual about the weather.
+
+“I wish I was home,” growled Teddy.
+
+“Well, I don’t. Bad as it is, it’s better than some other things that I
+know of. I’ll tell you what I’ll do—I’ll get rubber coats for us both
+when we get in in the morning.”
+
+“Got the money?”
+
+“That’s so. I had forgotten that,” laughed Phil. “I never thought that
+I should need money to buy a coat with. We’ll have to wait until
+payday. I wonder when that is?”
+
+“Ask Mr. Sparling.”
+
+“No; I would rather not.”
+
+“All right; get wet then.”
+
+“I am. I couldn’t be any more so were I to jump in the mill pond at
+home,” laughed Phil.
+
+Home! It seemed a long way off to these two friendless, or at least
+homeless, boys, though the little village of Edmeston was less than
+thirty miles away.
+
+The show did not get in to the next town until sometime after daylight,
+owing to the heavy condition of the roads. The cook tent was up when
+they arrived and the lads lost no time in scrambling from the wagon.
+They did not have to be thrown out this morning.
+
+“Come on,” shouted Phil, making a run for the protection of the cook
+tent, for the rain was coming down in sheets.
+
+Teddy was not far behind.
+
+“I’m the coffee boy. Where’s the coffee?” he shouted.
+
+“Have it in a few minutes,” answered the attendant who had been so kind
+to them the previous morning. “Here, you boys, get over by the steam
+boiler there and dry out your clothes,” he added, noting that their
+teeth were chattering.
+
+“Wish somebody would pour a pail of water over me,” shivered Teddy.
+
+“Water? What for?”
+
+“To wash the rain off. I’m soaked,” he answered humorously.
+
+They huddled around the steam boiler, the warmth from which they found
+very comforting in their bedraggled condition.
+
+“I’m steaming like an engine,” laughed Phil, taking off his coat and
+holding it near the boiler.
+
+“Yes; I’ve got enough of it in my clothes to run a sawmill,” agreed
+Teddy. “How about that coffee?”
+
+“Here it is.”
+
+After helping themselves they felt much better. Phil, after a time,
+walked to the entrance of the cook tent and looked out. The same bustle
+and excitement as on the previous two days was noticeable everywhere,
+and the men worked as if utterly oblivious of the fact that the rain
+was falling in torrents.
+
+“Do we parade today?” called Phil, observing Mr. Sparling hurrying past
+wrapped in oilskins and slouch hat.
+
+“This show gives a parade and two performances a day, rain, shine, snow
+or earthquake,” was the emphatic answer. “Come over to my tent in half
+an hour. I have something to say to you.”
+
+Phil ran across to Mr. Sparling’s tent at the expiration of half an
+hour, but he was ahead of time evidently, for the showman was not
+there. Nice dry straw had been piled on the ground in the little tent
+to take up the moisture, giving it a cosy, comfortable look inside.
+
+“This wouldn’t be a half bad place to sleep,” decided Phil, looking
+about him. “I don’t suppose we ever play the same town two nights in
+succession. I must find out.”
+
+Mr. Sparling bustled in at this point, stripping off his wet oilskins
+and hanging them on a hook on the tent pole at the further end.
+
+“Where’d you sleep?”
+
+“In wagon No. 10.”
+
+“Get wet?”
+
+“Very.”
+
+“Humph!”
+
+“We dried out in the cook tent when we got in. It might have been
+worse.”
+
+“Easily satisfied, aren’t you?”
+
+“I don’t know about that. I expect to meet with some disagreeable
+experiences.”
+
+“You won’t be disappointed. You’ll get all that’s coming to you. It’ll
+make a man of you if you stand it.”
+
+“And if I don’t?” questioned Phil Forrest, with a smile.
+
+Mr. Sparling answered by a shrug of the shoulders.
+
+“We’ll have to make some different arrangements for you,” he added in a
+slightly milder tone. “Can’t afford to have you get sick and knock your
+act out. It’s too important. I’ll fire some lazy, good-for-nothing
+performer out of a closed wagon and give you his place.”
+
+“Oh, I should rather not have you do that, sir.”
+
+“Who’s running this show?” snapped the owner.
+
+Phil made no reply.
+
+“I am. I’ll turn out whom I please and when I please. I’ve been in the
+business long enough to know when I’ve got a good thing. Where’s your
+rubber coat?” he demanded, changing the subject abruptly.
+
+“I have none, sir. I shall get an outfit later.”
+
+“No money, I suppose?”
+
+“Well, no, sir.”
+
+“Humph! Why didn’t you ask for some?”
+
+“I did not like to.”
+
+“You’re too modest. If you want a thing go after it. That’s my motto.
+Here’s ten dollars. Go downtown and get you a coat, and be lively about
+it. Wait a minute!” as Phil, uttering profuse thanks, started away to
+obey his employer’s command.
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“About that act of yours. Did you think it out all yourself?”
+
+“The idea was mine. Of course the property man and Mr. Kennedy worked
+it out for me. I should not have been able to do it alone.”
+
+“Humph! Little they did. They wouldn’t have thought of it in a thousand
+years. Performers usually are too well satisfied with themselves to
+think there’s anything worthwhile except what they’ve been doing since
+they came out of knickerbockers. How’d you get the idea?”
+
+“I don’t know—it just came to me.”
+
+“Then keep on thinking. That act is worth real money to any show. How
+much did I say I’d pay you?”
+
+“Ten dollars a week, sir.”
+
+“Humph! I made a mistake. I won’t give you ten.”
+
+Phil looked solemn.
+
+“I’ll give you twenty. I’d give you more, but it might spoil you. Get
+out of here and go buy yourself a coat.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+HIS FIRST SETBACK
+
+
+“Tha—thank—”
+
+“Out with you!”
+
+Laughing, his face flushed with pride and satisfaction, Phil did move.
+Not even pausing to note what direction he should go, he hurried on
+toward the village, perhaps more by instinct than otherwise. He was too
+full of this wonderful thing that had come to him—success—to take note
+of his surroundings.
+
+To Phil there was no rain. Though he already was drenched to the skin
+he did not know it.
+
+All at once he pulled himself up sharply.
+
+“Phil Forrest, you are getting excited,” he chided. “Now, don’t you try
+to make yourself believe you are the whole show, for you are only a
+little corner of it. You are not even a side show. You are a lucky boy,
+but you are going to keep your head level and try to earn your money.
+Twenty dollars a week! Why, it’s wealth! I can see Uncle Abner shaking
+his stick when he hears of it. I must write to Mrs. Cahill and tell her
+the good news. She’ll be glad, though I’ll warrant the boys at home
+will be jealous when they hear about how I am getting on in the world.”
+
+Thus talking to himself, Phil plodded on in the storm until he reached
+the business part of the town. There he found a store and soon had
+provided himself with a serviceable rubber coat, a pair of rubber boots
+and a soft hat. He put on his purchases, doing up his shoes and
+carrying them back under his arm.
+
+The parade started at noon. It was a dismal affair—that is, so far as
+the performers were concerned, and the clowns looked much more funny
+than they felt.
+
+Mr. Miaco enlivened the spirits of those on the hayrack by climbing to
+the back of one of the horses drawing the clowns’ wagon, where he sat
+with a doll’s parasol over his head and a doll in his arms singing a
+lullaby.
+
+The people who were massed along the sidewalks of the main street did
+not appear to mind the rain at all. They were too much interested in
+the free show being given for their benefit.
+
+The show people ate dinner with their feet in the mud that day, the
+cook tent having been pitched on a barren strip of ground.
+
+“This is where the Armless Wonder has the best of us today,” nodded
+Teddy, with his usual keen eye for humor.
+
+“How is that?” questioned Mr. Miaco.
+
+“’Cause he don’t have to put his feet in the mud like the rest of us
+do. He keeps them on the table. I wish I could put my feet on the
+table.”
+
+Everybody within hearing laughed heartily.
+
+In the tents there was little to remind one of the dismal weather, save
+for the roar of the falling rain on the canvas overhead. Straw had been
+piled all about on the ground inside the two large tents, and only here
+and there were there any muddy spots, though the odor of fresh wet
+grass was everywhere.
+
+The afternoon performance went off without a hitch, though the
+performers were somewhat more slow than usual, owing to the uncertainty
+of the footing for man and beast. Phil Forrest’s exhibition was even
+more successful than it had been in the last show town. He was obliged
+to run back to the ring and show himself after having been carried from
+the tent by Emperor. This time, however, his stage fright had entirely
+left him, never to return. He was now a seasoned showman, after
+something less than three days under canvas.
+
+The afternoon show being finished, and supper out of the way, Phil and
+Teddy returned to the big top to practice on the flying rings, which
+they had obtained permission to use.
+
+Mr. Miaco, himself an all around acrobat, was on hand to watch their
+work and to offer suggestions. He had taken a keen interest in Phil
+Forrest, seeing in the lad the making of a high-class circus performer.
+
+The rings were let down to within about ten feet of the sawdust ring,
+and one at a time the two lads were hoisted by the clown until their
+fingers grasped the iron rings.
+
+With several violent movements of their bodies they curled their feet
+up, slipping them through the rings, first having grasped the ropes
+above the rings.
+
+“That was well done. Quite professional,” nodded the clown. “Take hold
+of this rope and I will swing you. If it makes you dizzy, tell me.”
+
+“Don’t worry; it won’t,” laughed Phil.
+
+“Give me a shove, too,” urged Teddy.
+
+“In a minute.”
+
+Mr. Miaco began swinging Phil backwards and forwards, his speed ever
+increasing, and as he went higher and higher, Phil let himself down,
+fastening his hands on the rings that he might assist in the swinging.
+
+“Now, see if you can get back in the rings with your legs.”
+
+“That’s easy,” answered Phil, his breath coming sharp and fast, for he
+never had taken such a long sweep in the rings before.
+
+The feat was not quite so easy as he had imagined. Phil made three
+attempts before succeeding. But he mastered it and came up smiling.
+
+“Good,” cried the clown, clapping his hands approvingly.
+
+“Give me another swing. I want to try something else.”
+
+Having gained sufficient momentum, the lad, after reaching the point
+where the rings would start on their backward flight, permitted his
+legs to slip through the rings, catching them with his feet.
+
+He swept back, head and arms hanging down, as skillfully as if he had
+been doing that very thing right along.
+
+“You’ll do,” emphasized the clown. “You will need to put a little more
+finish in your work. I’ll give you a lesson in that next time.”
+
+Teddy, not to be outdone, went through the same exhibition, though not
+quite with the same speed that Phil had shown.
+
+It being the hour when the performers always gathered in the big top to
+practice and play, many of them stood about watching the boys work.
+They nodded their heads approvingly when Phil finished and swung
+himself to the ground.
+
+Teddy, on his part, overrated his ability when it came to hanging by
+his feet.
+
+“Look out!” warned half a dozen performers at once.
+
+He had not turned his left foot into the position where it would catch
+and hold in the ring. Their trained eyes had noted this omission
+instantly.
+
+The foot, of course, failed to catch, and Teddy uttered a howl when he
+found himself falling. His fall, however, was checked by a sharp jolt.
+The right foot had caught properly. As he swept past the laughing
+performers he was dangling in the air like a huge spider, both hands
+and one foot clawing the air in a desperate manner.
+
+There was nothing they could do to liberate him from his uncomfortable
+position until the momentum of his swing had lessened sufficiently to
+enable them to catch him.
+
+“Hold your right steady!” cautioned Miaco. “If you twist it you’ll take
+a beauty tumble.”
+
+Teddy hadn’t thought of that before. Had Miaco known the lad better he
+would not have made the mistake of giving that advice.
+
+Teddy promptly turned his foot.
+
+He shot from the flying rings as if he had been fired from a cannon.
+
+Phil tried to catch him, but stumbled and fell over a rope, while Teddy
+shot over his head, landing on and diving head first into a pile of
+straw that had just been brought in to bed down the tent for the
+evening performance.
+
+Nothing of Teddy save his feet was visible.
+
+They hauled him out by those selfsame feet, and, after disentangling
+him from the straws that clung to him, were relieved to find that he
+had not been hurt in the least.
+
+“I guess we shall have to put a net under you. Lucky for you that that
+pile of straw happened to get in your way. Do you know what would have
+happened to you had it not been?” demanded Mr. Miaco.
+
+“I—I guess I’d have made a hit,” decided Teddy wisely.
+
+“I guess there is no doubt about that.”
+
+The performers roared.
+
+“I’m going to try it again.”
+
+“No; you’ve done enough for one day. You won’t be able to hold up the
+coffeepot tomorrow morning if you do much more.”
+
+“Do you think we will be able to accomplish anything on the flying
+rings, Mr. Miaco?” asked Phil after they had returned to the dressing
+tent.
+
+“There is no doubt of it. Were I in your place I should take an hour’s
+work on them every day. Besides building you up generally, it will make
+you surer and better able to handle yourself. Then, again, you never
+know what minute you may be able to increase your income. People in
+this business often profit by others’ misfortunes,” added the clown
+significantly.
+
+“I would prefer not to profit that way,” answered Phil.
+
+“You would rather do it by your own efforts?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It all amounts to the same thing. You are liable to be put out any
+minute yourself, then somebody else will get your job, if you are a
+performer of importance to the show.”
+
+“You mean if my act is?”
+
+“That’s what I mean.”
+
+The old clown and the enthusiastic young showman talked in the dressing
+tent until it was time for each to begin making up for the evening
+performance.
+
+The dressing tent was the real home of the performers. They knew no
+other. It was there that they unpacked their trunks—there that during
+their brief stay they pinned up against the canvas walls the pictures
+of their loved ones, many of whom were far across the sea. A bit of
+ribbon here, a faded flower drawn from the recess of a trunk full of
+silk and spangles, told of the tender hearts that were beating beneath
+those iron-muscled breasts, and that they were as much human beings as
+their brothers in other walks of life.
+
+Much of this Phil understood in a vague way as he watched them from day
+to day. He was beginning to like these big-hearted, big-muscled
+fellows, though there were those among them who were not desirable as
+friends.
+
+“I guess it’s just the same as it is at home,” decided Phil. “Some of
+the folks are worthwhile, and others are not.”
+
+He had summed it up.
+
+Sometime before the evening performance was due to begin Phil was made
+up and ready for his act. As his exhibition came on at the very
+beginning he had to be ready early. Then, again, he was obliged to walk
+all the way to the menagerie tent to reach his elephant.
+
+Throwing a robe over his shoulders and pulling his hat well down over
+his eyes, the lad pushed the silken curtains aside and began working
+his way toward the front, beating against the human tide that had set
+in against him, wet, dripping, but good natured.
+
+“Going to have a wet night,” observed Teddy, whom he met at the
+entrance to the menagerie tent.
+
+“Looks that way. But never mind; I’ll share my rubber coat with you. We
+can put it over us and sit up to sleep. That will make a waterproof
+tent. Perhaps we may be able to find a stake or something to stick up
+in the middle of the coat.”
+
+“But the canvas under us will be soaked,” grumbled Teddy. “We’ll be
+wetter than ever.”
+
+“We’ll gather some straw and tie it up in a tight bundle to put under
+us when we get located. There goes the band. I must be off, or you’ll
+hear Emperor screaming for me.”
+
+“He’s at it now. Hear him?”
+
+“I couldn’t well help hearing that roar,” laughed Phil, starting off on
+a run.
+
+The grand entry was made, Phil crouching low in the bonnet on the big
+beast’s head. It was an uncomfortable position, but he did not mind it
+in the least. The only thing that troubled Phil was the fear that the
+head gear might become disarranged and spoil the effect of his
+surprise. There were many in the tent who had seen him make his flight
+at the afternoon performance, and had returned with their friends
+almost solely to witness the pretty spectacle again.
+
+The time had arrived for Emperor to rise for his grand salute to the
+audience. Mr. Kennedy had given Phil his cue, the lad had braced
+himself to straighten up suddenly. A strap had been attached to the
+elephant’s head harness for Phil to take hold of to steady himself by
+when he first straightened up. Until his position was erect Emperor
+could not grasp the boy’s legs with his trunk.
+
+“Right!” came the trainer’s command.
+
+The circus boy thrust out his elbows, and the bonnet fell away, as he
+rose smiling to face the sea of white, expectant faces before him.
+
+While they were applauding he fastened the flying wire to the ring in
+his belt. The wire, which was suspended from above, was so small that
+it was wholly invisible to the spectators, which heightened the effect
+of his flight. So absorbed were the people in watching the slender
+figure each time that they failed to observe an attendant hauling on a
+rope near the center pole, which was the secret of Phil’s ability to
+fly.
+
+Throwing his hands out before him the little performer dove gracefully
+out into the air.
+
+There was a slight jolt. Instantly he knew that something was wrong.
+The audience, too, instinctively felt that the act was not ending as it
+should.
+
+Phil was falling. He was plunging straight toward the ring, head first.
+He struck heavily, crumpling up in a little heap, then straightening
+out, while half a dozen attendants ran to the lad, hastily picking him
+up and hurrying to the dressing tent with the limp, unconscious form.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+LEFT BEHIND
+
+
+“Is he hurt much?”
+
+“Don’t know. Maybe he’s broken his neck.”
+
+This brief dialogue ensued between two painted clowns hurrying to their
+stations.
+
+In the meantime the band struck up a lively air, the clowns launched
+into a merry medley of song and jest and in a few moments the
+spectators forgot the scene they had just witnessed, in the noise, the
+dash and the color. It would come back to them later like some
+long-past dream.
+
+Mr. Kennedy, with grim, set face, uttered a stern command to Emperor,
+who for a brief instant had stood irresolute, as if pondering as to
+whether he should turn and plunge for the red silk curtains behind
+which his little friend had disappeared in the arms of the attendants.
+
+The trainer’s voice won, and Emperor trumpeting loudly, took his way to
+his quarters without further protest.
+
+In the dressing tent another scene was being enacted. On two drawn-up
+trunks, over which had been thrown a couple of horse blankets, they had
+laid the slender, red-clad figure of Phil Forrest.
+
+The boy’s pale face appeared even more ashen than it really was under
+the flickering glare of the gasoline torches. His head had been propped
+up on a saddle, while about him stood a half circle of solemn-faced
+performers in various stages of undress and makeup.
+
+“Is he badly hurt?” asked one.
+
+“Can’t say. Miaco has gone for the doc. We’ll know pretty soon. That
+was a dandy tumble he took.”
+
+“How did it happen?”
+
+“Wire broke. You can’t put no faith on a wire with a kink in it. I
+nearly got my light put out, out in St. Joe, Missouri, by a trick like
+that. No more swinging wire for me. Guess the kid, if he pulls out of
+this, will want to hang on to a rope after this. He will if he’s wise.”
+
+“What’s this? What’s this?” roared Mr. Sparling, who, having heard of
+the accident, came rushing into the tent. “Who’s hurt?”
+
+“The kid,” informed someone.
+
+“What kid? Can’t you fellows talk? Oh, it’s Forrest, is it? How did it
+happen?”
+
+One of the performers who had witnessed the accident related what he
+had observed.
+
+“Huh!” grunted the showman, stepping up beside Phil and placing a hand
+on the boy’s heart.
+
+“Huh!”
+
+“He’s alive, isn’t he, Mr. Sparling?”
+
+“Yes. Anybody gone for the doctor?”
+
+“Miaco has.”
+
+“Wonder any of you had sense enough to think of that. I congratulate
+you. Somebody will suffer when I find out who was responsible for
+hanging that boy’s life on a rotten old piece of wire. I presume it’s
+been kicking around this outfit for the last seven years.”
+
+“Here comes the doc,” announced a voice.
+
+There was a tense silence in the dressing tent, broken only by the
+patter of the rain drops on the canvas roof, while the show’s surgeon
+was making his examination.
+
+“Well, well! What about it?” demanded Mr. Sparling impatiently.
+
+The surgeon did not answer at once. His calm, professional demeanor was
+not to be disturbed by the blustering but kind- hearted showman, and
+the showman, knowing this from past experience, relapsed into silence
+until such time as the surgeon should conclude to answer him.
+
+“Did he fall on his head?” he questioned, looking up, at the same time
+running his fingers over Phil’s dark-brown hair.
+
+“Looks that way, doesn’t it?”
+
+“I should say so.”
+
+“What’s the matter with him?”
+
+“I shall be unable to decide definitely for an hour or so yet, unless
+he regains consciousness in the meantime. It may be a fracture of the
+skull or a mere concussion.”
+
+“Huh!”
+
+Mr. Sparling would have said more, but for the fact that the calm eyes
+of the surgeon were fixed upon him in a level gaze.
+
+“Any bones broken?”
+
+“No; I think not. How far did he fall?”
+
+“Fell from Emperor’s head when the bull was up in the air. He must have
+taken all of a twenty-foot dive, I should say.”
+
+“Possible? It’s a great wonder he didn’t break his neck. But he is very
+well muscled for a boy of his age. I don’t suppose they have a hospital
+in this town?”
+
+“Of course not. They never have anything in these tank towns. You ought
+to know that by this time.”
+
+“They have a hotel. I know for I took dinner there today. If you will
+get a carriage of some sort I think we had better take him there.”
+
+“Leave him, you mean?” questioned Mr. Sparling.
+
+“Yes; that will be best. We can put him in charge of a local physician
+here. He ought to be able to take care of the boy all right.”
+
+“Not by a jug full!” roared Mr. James Sparling. “We’ll do nothing of
+the sort.”
+
+“It will not be safe to take him with us, Sparling.”
+
+“Did I say it would? Did I? Of course, he shan’t be moved, nor will he
+be left to one of these know-nothing sawbones. You’ll stay here with
+him yourself, and you’ll take care of him if you know what’s good for
+you. I’d rather lose most any five men in this show than that boy
+there.”
+
+The surgeon nodded his approval of the sentiment. He, too, had taken
+quite a fancy to Phil, because of the lad’s sunny disposition and
+natural brightness.
+
+“Get out the coach some of you fellows. Have my driver hook up and
+drive back into the paddock here, and be mighty quick about it. Here,
+doc, is a head of lettuce (roll of money). If you need any more, you
+know where to reach us. Send me a telegram in the morning and another
+tomorrow night. Keep me posted and pull that boy out of this scrape or
+you’ll be everlastingly out of a job with the Sparling Combined Shows.
+Understand?”
+
+The surgeon nodded understandingly. He had heard Mr. Sparling bluster
+on other occasions, and it did not make any great impression upon him.
+
+The carriage was quickly at hand. Circus people were in the habit of
+obeying orders promptly. A quick drive was made to the hotel, where the
+circus boy was quickly undressed and put to bed.
+
+All during the night the surgeon worked faithfully over his little
+charge, and just as the first streaks of daylight slanted through the
+window and across the white counterpane, Phil opened his eyes.
+
+For only a moment did they remain open, then closed again.
+
+The surgeon drew a long, deep breath.
+
+“Not a fracture,” he announced aloud. “I’m thankful for that.” He drew
+the window shades down to shut out the light, as it was all important
+that Phil should be kept quiet for a time. But the surgeon did not
+sleep. He sat keen-eyed by the side of the bed, now and then noting the
+pulse of his patient, touching the lad’s cheeks with light fingers.
+
+After a time the fresh morning air, fragrant with the fields and
+flowers, drifted in, and the birds in the trees took up their morning
+songs.
+
+“I guess the storm must be over,” muttered the medical man, rising
+softly and peering out from behind the curtain.
+
+The day was dawning bright and beautiful.
+
+“My, it feels good to be in bed!” said a voice from the opposite side
+of the room. “Where am I?”
+
+The surgeon wheeled sharply.
+
+“You are to keep very quiet. You had a tumble that shook you up
+considerably.”
+
+“What time is it?” demanded Phil sharply.
+
+“About five o’clock in the morning.”
+
+“I must get up; I must get up.”
+
+“You will lie perfectly still. The show will get along without you
+today, I guess.”
+
+“You don’t mean they have gone on and left me?”
+
+“Of course; they couldn’t wait for you.”
+
+The boys eyes filled with tears.
+
+“I knew it couldn’t last. I knew it.”
+
+“See here, do you want to join the show again?”
+
+“Of course, I do.”
+
+“Well, then, lie still. The more quiet you keep the sooner you will be
+able to get out. Try to go to sleep. I must go downstairs and send a
+message to Mr. Sparling, for he is very much concerned about you.”
+
+“Then he will take me back?” asked Phil eagerly.
+
+“Of course he will.”
+
+“I’ll go to sleep, doctor.”
+
+Phil turned over on his side and a moment later was breathing
+naturally.
+
+The doctor tip-toed from the room and hastened down to the hotel office
+where he penned the following message:
+
+James Sparling,
+
+
+Sparling Combined Shows,
+
+
+Boyertown.
+
+
+Forrest recovers consciousness. Not a fracture. Expect him to be all
+right in a few days. Will stay unless further orders.
+
+
+Irvine.
+
+
+“I think I’ll go upstairs and get a bit of a nap myself,” decided the
+surgeon, after having directed the sleepy clerk to see to it that the
+message was dispatched to its destination at once.
+
+He found Phil sleeping soundly. Throwing himself into a chair the
+surgeon, used to getting a catnap whenever and wherever possible, was
+soon sleeping as soundly as was his young patient.
+
+Neither awakened until the day was nearly done.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+A STARTLING DISCOVERY
+
+
+Phil’s recovery was rapid, though four days passed before he was
+permitted to leave his bed. As soon as he was able to get downstairs
+and sit out on the front porch of the hotel he found himself an object
+of interest as well as curiosity.
+
+The story of his accident had been talked of until it had grown out of
+all proportion to the real facts in the case. The boys of the village
+hung over the porch rail and eyed him wonderingly and admiringly. It
+did not fall to their lot every day to get acquainted with a real
+circus boy. They asked him all manner of questions, which the lad
+answered gladly, for even though he had suffered a severe accident, he
+was not beyond enjoying the admiration of his fellows.
+
+“It must be great to be a circus boy,” marveled one.
+
+“It is until you fall off and crack your head,” laughed Phil. “It’s not
+half so funny then.”
+
+After returning to his room that day Phil pondered deeply over the
+accident. He could not understand it.
+
+“Nobody seems to know what really did happen,” he mused. “Dr. Irvine
+says the wire broke. That doesn’t seem possible.”
+
+Off in the little dog tent of the owner of the show, Mr. James
+Sparling, on the day following the accident, was asking himself almost
+the same questions.
+
+He sent for Mr. Kennedy after having disposed of his early morning
+business. There was a scowl on the owner’s face, but it had not been
+caused by the telegram which lay on the desk before him, informing him
+that Phil was not seriously hurt. That was a source of keen
+satisfaction to the showman, for he felt that he could not afford to
+lose the young circus boy.
+
+Teddy was so upset over it, however, that the boss had about made up
+his mind to let Phil’s companion go back and join him.
+
+While the showman was thinking the matter over, Mr. Kennedy appeared at
+the opening of the dog tent.
+
+“Morning,” he greeted, which was responded to by a muttered “Huh!” from
+James Sparling.
+
+“Come in. What are you standing out there for?”
+
+Kennedy was so used to this form of salutation that he paid no further
+attention to it than to obey the summons.
+
+He entered and stood waiting for his employer to speak.
+
+“I want you to tell me exactly what occurred last night, when young
+Forrest got hurt, Kennedy.”
+
+“I can’t tell you any more about it than you heard last night. He had
+started to make his dive before I noticed that anything was wrong. He
+didn’t stop until he landed on his head. They said the wire snapped.”
+
+“Did it?”
+
+“I guess so,” grinned Kennedy.
+
+“Who is responsible for having picked out that wire?”
+
+“I guess I am.”
+
+“And you have the face to stand there and tell me so?”
+
+“I usually tell the truth, don’t I?”
+
+“Yes, yes; you do. That’s what I like about you.”
+
+“Heard from the kid this morning?”
+
+“Yes; he’ll be all right in a few days. Concussion and general shaking
+up; that’s all, but it’s enough. How are the bulls this morning?”
+
+“Emperor is sour. Got a regular grouch on.”
+
+“Misses that young rascal Phil, I suppose?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“H-m-m-m!”
+
+“Didn’t want to come through last night at all.”
+
+“H-m-m-m. Guess we’d better fire you and let the boy handle the bulls;
+don’t you think so?”
+
+The trainer grinned and nodded.
+
+“Kennedy, you’ve been making your brags that you always tell me the
+truth. I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to see if you
+can make that boast good.”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+Perhaps the trainer understood something of what was in his employer’s
+mind, for his lips closed sharply while his jaw took on a belligerent
+look.
+
+“How did that wire come to break, Kennedy?”
+
+The question came out with a snap, as if the showman already had made
+up his mind as to what the answer should be.
+
+“It was cut, sir,” answered the trainer promptly.
+
+The lines in Mr. Sparling’s face drew hard and tense. Instead of a
+violent outburst of temper, which Kennedy fully expected, the owner sat
+silently contemplating his trainer for a full minute.
+
+“Who did it?”
+
+“I couldn’t guess.”
+
+“I didn’t ask you to guess. I can guess for myself. I asked who did
+it?”
+
+“I don’t know. I haven’t the least idea who would do a job like that in
+this show. I hope the mean hound will take French leave before I get
+him spotted, sir.”
+
+Mr. Sparling nodded with emphasis.
+
+“I hope so, Kennedy. What makes you think the wire was cut?”
+
+With great deliberation the trainer drew a small package from his
+inside coat pocket, carefully unwrapped it, placing the contents on the
+table in front of Mr. Sparling.
+
+“What’s this—what’s this?”
+
+“That’s the wire.”
+
+“But there are two pieces here—”
+
+“Yes. I cut off a few feet on each side of where the break occurred.
+Those are the two.”
+
+Mr. Sparling regarded them critically.
+
+“How can you tell that the wire has been cut, except where you cut it
+yourself?”
+
+“It was cut halfway through with a file, as you can see, sir. When
+Forrest threw his weight on it, of course the wire parted at the
+weakened point.”
+
+“H-m-m-m.”
+
+“If you will examine it, an inch or two above the cut, you will find
+two or three file marks, where the file started to cut, then was moved
+down. Probably slipped. Looks like it. Don’t you think I’m right, sir?”
+
+Mr. Sparling nodded reflectively.
+
+“There can be no doubt of it. You think it was done between the two
+performances yesterday?”
+
+“Oh, yes. That cut wouldn’t have held through one performance. It was
+cut during the afternoon.”
+
+“Who was in the tent between the shows?”
+
+“Pretty much the whole crowd. But, if you will remember, the day was
+dark and stormy. There was a time late in the afternoon, before the
+torches were lighted, when the big top was almost in darkness. It’s my
+idea that the job was done then. Anybody could have done it without
+being discovered. It’s likely there wasn’t anybody in the tent except
+himself at the time.”
+
+“Kennedy, I want you to find out who did that. Understand?”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+TEDDY DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF
+
+
+“The boss has an awful grouch on.”
+
+“Yes; I wonder what’s the matter with him,” pondered the clown.
+
+His brother fun-maker shrugged his shoulders.
+
+“Guess he’s mad because of young Forrest’s accident. Just got a good
+act started when he had to go and spoil it.”
+
+Not a hint of the suspicion entertained by the owner and his elephant
+trainer had been breathed about the show. Nearly a week had passed
+since Phil’s narrow escape from death; yet, despite all the efforts of
+Kennedy or the shrewd observation of his employer, they were no nearer
+a solution of the mystery than before. The days passed, and with them
+the anger of James Sparling increased.
+
+“That chum of Forrest’s is a funny fellow,” continued the first
+speaker. “He’d make a good clown?”
+
+“Make? He’s one already. Look at him.”
+
+Teddy was perched on the back of Jumbo, the trick mule of the show, out
+in the paddock, where the performers were indulging in various strange
+antics for the purpose of limbering themselves up prior to entering the
+ring for their acts.
+
+The bright, warm sunlight was streaming down, picking up little flames
+from the glistening spangles sprinkled over the costumes of many of the
+circus folks.
+
+Teddy and Jumbo had become fast friends—a strangely assorted pair, and
+whenever the opportunity presented itself Teddy would mount the ugly
+looking mule, riding him about the paddock or the ring when there was
+nothing going on under the big top. Every time the pair made their
+appearance it was the signal for a shout of merriment from the
+performers.
+
+Teddy had perched himself on Jumbo’s back while the mule was awaiting
+his turn to enter the ring, which he did alone, performing his act with
+nothing save the crack of the ringmaster’s whip to guide him.
+
+Somebody had jammed a clown’s cap on Teddy’s head, while someone else
+had hit it a smash with the flat of his hand, until the peak of the cap
+lopped over to one side disconsolately.
+
+Teddy’s face wore an appreciative grin, Jumbo’s long ears lying as far
+back on his head as they would reach. To the ordinary observer it might
+have been supposed that the mule was angry about something. On the
+contrary, it was his way of showing his pleasure. When a pan of oats
+was thrust before Jumbo, or he chanced upon a patch of fresh, tender
+grass, the ears expressed the animal’s satisfaction.
+
+Jumbo could do pretty much everything except talk, but occasionally the
+stubbornness of his kind took possession of him. At such times the
+trick mule was wont to do the most erratic things.
+
+“How’d you like to ride him in?” chuckled Miaco, who stood regarding
+the lad with a broad smile.
+
+“If I had a saddle I wouldn’t mind it,” grinned Teddy’s funny face as
+an accompaniment to his words.
+
+Jumbo’s equipment consisted of a cinch girth and a pair of bridle reins
+connected with a headstall. There was no bit, but the effect was to
+arch his neck like that of a proud stallion.
+
+“You’d make the hit of your life if you did,” laughed Miaco. “Wonder
+the boss don’t have you do it.”
+
+“Would if he knew about it,” spoke up a performer. “The really funny
+things don’t get into the ring in a circus, unless by accident.”
+
+In the meantime the ringmaster was making his loud-voiced announcement
+out under the big top.
+
+“Ladies and gentlemen,” he roared, after a loud crack of his
+long-lashed whip, to attract the attention of the people to him, “we
+are now about to introduce the wonderful performing mule Jumbo, the
+only broncho-bucking, bobtailed mule in the world. You will notice that
+he performs without a rider, without human interference. Please do not
+speak to Jumbo while he is going through his act. Ladies and gentlemen,
+Jumbo, the great educated mule, will now make his appearance unaided by
+human hand.”
+
+The audience applauded the announcement.
+
+At that moment the band struck up the tune by which Jumbo always made
+his entrance. At the first blare of the brass a fun-loving clown jabbed
+Jumbo with a pin. The mule did the rest.
+
+“Here! Here! Get off that mule!” shouted the animal’s trainer. “He’s
+going on!”
+
+“Let him go!” roared clowns and other performers.
+
+Jumbo had never made as quick a start in all his circus career as he
+did that day. He fairly leaped into the air, though only one man
+understood the reason for the mule’s sudden move.
+
+With a bray that was heard all over the big top Jumbo burst through the
+red curtains like a tornado. There he paused for one brief instant, as
+if uncertain whether to do a certain thing or not.
+
+Recalling the ringmaster’s words, the spectators at first were at a
+loss to account for the odd-looking figure that was clinging to the
+back of the educated mule.
+
+Suddenly they broke out into roars of laughter, while the performers
+peering through the red curtain fairly howled with delight.
+
+Teddy was hanging to the cinch girth uncertain what to do. The
+ringmaster, amazed beyond words, stood gaping at the spectacle, for the
+moment powerless to use his usually ready tongue.
+
+Jumbo launched into the arena.
+
+“Get off!” thundered the ringmaster, suddenly recovering himself.
+
+“I can’t!” howled Teddy, though from present indications it appeared as
+if he would dismount without any effort on his own part.
+
+Jumbo’s heels flew into the air, then began a series of lunges, bucking
+and terrific kicking such as none among the vast audience ever had
+witnessed in or out of a show ring.
+
+One instant Teddy would be standing on his head on the mule’s back, the
+next lying on his back with feet toward the animal’s head. Next he
+would be dragged along the ground, to be plumped back again at the next
+bounce.
+
+No feat seemed too difficult for Jumbo to attempt that day.
+
+“Stop him! Stop him!” howled the ringmaster.
+
+Ring attendants rushed forward to obey his command, but they might as
+well have tried to stop a tornado. Jumbo eluded them without the least
+trouble, but their efforts to keep out of range of his flying hoofs
+were not so easy. Some of them had narrow escapes from being seriously
+injured.
+
+Mr. Sparling, attracted by the roars of laughter of the audience and
+the unusual disturbance, had hurried into the big top, where he stood,
+at first in amazement, then with a broad grin overspreading his
+countenance.
+
+Now Jumbo began a race with himself about the arena, following the
+concourse, now and then sending his heels into the air right over the
+heads of the spectators of the lower row of seats, sending them
+scrambling under the seats for protection.
+
+A clown ran out with half a dozen paper covered hoops, which he was
+holding in readiness for the next bareback act.
+
+He flaunted them in the face of the runaway mule.
+
+Jumbo ducked his head under them and Teddy Tucker’s head went through
+the paper with a crash, the mule’s heels at that instant being high in
+the air.
+
+With the rings hung about his neck, Teddy cut a more ridiculous figure
+than ever. The audience went wild with excitement.
+
+Now the ringmaster, angered beyond endurance, began reaching for Teddy
+with the long lash of his whip. The business end of the lash once
+brushed the boy’s cheek.
+
+It stung him.
+
+“Ouch!” howled Teddy as he felt the lash.
+
+“Stop that!” exploded Mr. Sparling, who, by this time, had gotten into
+the ring to take a hand in the performance himself. He grabbed the
+irate ringmaster by the collar, giving him a jerk that that functionary
+did not forget in a hurry.
+
+Jumbo, however, was no respecter of persons. He had taken a short cut
+across the ring just as the owner had begun his correction of the
+ringmaster. Jumbo shook out his heels again. They caught the owner’s
+sombrero and sent it spinning into the air.
+
+Mr. Sparling, in his excitement, forgot all about the ringmaster.
+Picking up a tent stake, he hurled it after the educated mule, missing
+him by a full rod.
+
+The audience by this time was in a tempest of excitement. At first they
+thought it was all a part of the show. But they were soon undeceived,
+which made their enjoyment and appreciation all the greater.
+
+Jumbo took a final sprint about the arena, Teddy’s legs and free arm
+most of the time in the air. He had long since lost his clown’s cap,
+which Jumbo, espying, had kicked off into the audience.
+
+“You fool mule! You fool mule!” bellowed Mr. Sparling.
+
+Jumbo suddenly decided that he would go back to the paddock. With him,
+to decide was to act. Taking a fresh burst of speed, he shot straight
+at the red curtains. To reach these he was obliged to pass close to the
+bandstand, where the band was playing as if the very existence of the
+show depended upon them.
+
+Teddy’s grip was relaxing. His arm was so benumbed that he could not
+feel that he had any arm on that side at all.
+
+His fingers slowly relaxed their grip on the cinch girth. In a moment
+he had bounced back to the educated mule’s rump. In another instant he
+would be plumped to the hard ground with a jolt that would shake him to
+his foundations.
+
+But Jumbo had other plans—more spectacular plans—in mind. He put them
+into execution at once. The moment he felt his burden slipping over his
+back that active end grew busy again. Jumbo humped himself, letting out
+a volley of kicks so lightning-like in their swiftness that human eye
+could not follow.
+
+Teddy had slipped half over the mule’s rump when the volley began.
+
+“Catch him! He’ll be killed!” shouted someone.
+
+All at once the figure of Teddy Tucker shot straight up into the air,
+propelled there by the educated mule. The lad’s body described what
+somebody afterwards characterized as “graceful somersault in the air,”
+then began its downward flight.
+
+He landed right in the midst of the band.
+
+Crash!
+
+There was a yell of warning, a jingle and clatter of brass, several
+chairs went down under the impact, the floor gave way and half the
+band, with Teddy Tucker in the middle of the heap, sank out of sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+THE RETURN TO THE SAWDUST LIFE
+
+
+“Is he dead?”
+
+“No; you can’t kill a thick-head like that,” snarled the ringmaster.
+
+The audience was still roaring.
+
+With angry imprecations the members of the band who had fallen through
+were untangling themselves as rapidly as possible. Teddy, in the
+meantime, had dragged himself from beneath the heap and slunk out from
+under the broken platform. He lost no time in escaping to the paddock,
+but the bandmaster, espying him, started after the lad, waving his
+baton threateningly.
+
+No sooner had Teddy gained the seclusion of the dressing tent than
+James Sparling burst in.
+
+“Where’s that boy? Where’s that boy?”
+
+“Here he is,” grinned a performer, thrusting Teddy forward, much
+against the lad’s inclinations.
+
+Mr. Sparling surveyed him with narrow eyes.
+
+“You young rascal! Trying to break up my show, are you?”
+
+“N-no—sir.”
+
+“Can you do that again, do you think?”
+
+“I—I don’t know.”
+
+“That’s the greatest Rube mule act that ever hit a sawdust ring. I’ll
+double your salary if you think you can get away with it every
+performance,” fairly shouted the owner.
+
+“I—I’m willing if the mule is,” stammered Teddy somewhat doubtfully.
+
+As a result the lad left his job in the cook tent, never to return to
+it. After many hard knocks and some heavy falls he succeeded in so
+mastering the act that he was able to go through with it without great
+risk of serious injury to himself. The educated mule and the boy became
+a feature of the Sparling Combined Shows from that moment on, but after
+that Teddy took good care not to round off his act by a high dive into
+the big bass horn.
+
+No one was more delighted at Teddy Tucker’s sudden leap to fame than
+was his companion, Phil Forrest. Phil and Dr. Irvine returned to the
+show, one afternoon, about a week after the accident. They had come on
+by train.
+
+Phil, though somewhat pale after his setback, was clear-eyed, and
+declared himself as fit as ever. He insisted upon going on with his act
+at the evening performance, but Mr. Sparling told him to wait until the
+day following. In the meantime Phil could get his apparatus in working
+order.
+
+“I’ll look it over myself this time,” announced the showman. “I don’t
+want any more such accidents happening in this show. Your friend Teddy
+nearly put the whole outfit to the bad—he and the fool mule.”
+
+That afternoon Phil had an opportunity to witness for himself the
+exhibition of his companion and the “fool mule.” He laughed until his
+sides ached.
+
+“O Teddy, you’ll break your neck doing that stunt one of these times,”
+warned Phil, hastening back to the dressing tent after Teddy and the
+mule had left the ring.
+
+“Don’t you think it’s worth the risk?”
+
+“That depends.”
+
+“For two dollars a day?”
+
+“Is that what you are getting?”
+
+“Yep. I’m a high-priced performer,” insisted Teddy, snapping his
+trousers pocket significantly. “I’d jump off the big top, twice every
+day, for that figure.”
+
+“What are you going to do with all your money? Spend it?”
+
+“I—rather thought I’d buy a bicycle.”
+
+Phil shook his head.
+
+“You couldn’t carry it, and, besides, nobody rides bicycles these days.
+They ride in automobiles.”
+
+“Then I’ll buy one of them.”
+
+“I’ll tell you what you do, Teddy.”
+
+“Lend the money to you, eh?”
+
+“No; I am earning plenty for myself. But every week, now, I shall send
+all my money home to Mrs. Cahill. I wrote to her about it while I was
+sick. She is going to put it in the bank for me at Edmeston, with
+herself appointed as trustee. That’s necessary, you see, because I am
+not of age. Then no one can take it away from me.”
+
+“You mean your Uncle Abner?” questioned Teddy.
+
+“Yes. I don’t know that he would want to; but I’m not taking any
+chances. Now, why not send your money along at the same time? Mrs.
+Cahill will deposit it in the same way, and at the end of the season
+think what a lot of money you will have?”
+
+“Regular fortune?”
+
+“Yes, a regular fortune.”
+
+“What’ll I do with all that money?”
+
+“Do what I’m going to do—get an education.”
+
+“What, and leave the show business? No, siree!”
+
+“I didn’t mean that. You can go to school between seasons. I don’t
+intend to leave the show business, but I’m going to know something
+besides that.”
+
+“Well, I guess it would be a good idea,” reflected Teddy.
+
+“Will you do it?”
+
+“Yes; I’ll do it,” he nodded.
+
+“Good for you! We’ll own a show of our own, one of these days. You mark
+me, Teddy,” glowed Phil.
+
+“Of our own?” marveled Teddy, his face wreathing in smiles. “Say,
+wouldn’t that be great?”
+
+“I think so. Have you been practicing on the rings since I left?”
+
+“No.”
+
+“That’s too bad. You and I will begin tomorrow. We ought to be pretty
+expert on the flying rings in a few weeks, if I don’t get hurt again,”
+added the boy, a shadow flitting across his face.
+
+“Then, you’d better begin by taking some bends,” suggested Mr. Miaco,
+who, approaching, had overheard Phil’s remark.
+
+“Bends?” questioned Teddy
+
+“What are they?” wondered Phil. “Oh, I know. I read about them in the
+papers. It’s an attack that fellows working in a tunnel get when
+they’re digging under a river. I don’t want anything like that.”
+
+“No, no, no,” replied Mr. Miaco in a tone of disgust. “It’s no disease
+at all.”
+
+“No?”
+
+“What I mean by bends is exercises. You have seen the performers do
+it—bend forward until their hands touch the ground, legs stiff, then
+tipping as far backwards as possible. Those are bending exercises, and
+the best things to do. The performers limber up for their act that way.
+If you practice it slowly several times a day you will be surprised to
+see what it will do for you. I’d begin today were I in your place,
+Phil. You’ll find yourself a little stiff when you go on in your
+elephant act tonight—”
+
+“I’m not going on tonight—not until tomorrow. Mr. Sparling doesn’t wish
+me to.”
+
+“All right. All the better. Exercise! I wouldn’t begin on the rings
+today either. Just take your bends, get steady on your feet and start
+in in a regular, systematic way tomorrow,” advised the head clown.
+
+“Thank you, Mr. Miaco; I shall do so. I am much obliged to you. You are
+very kind to us.”
+
+“Because I like you, and because you boys don’t pretend to know more
+about the circus business than men who have spent their lives in it.”
+
+“I hope I shall never be like that,” laughed Phil. “I know I shall
+always be willing to learn.”
+
+“And there always is something to learn in the circus life. None of us
+knows it all. There are new things coming up every day,” added the
+clown.
+
+Phil left the dressing tent to go around to the menagerie tent for a
+talk with Mr. Kennedy and Emperor. Entering the tent the lad gave his
+whistle signal, whereat Emperor trumpeted loudly.
+
+The big elephant greeted his young friend with every evidence of joy
+and excitement. Phil, of course, had brought Emperor a bag of peanuts
+as well as several lumps of sugar, and it was with difficulty that the
+lad got away from him after finishing his chat with Mr. Kennedy.
+
+Phil was making a round of calls that afternoon, so he decided that he
+would next visit Mr. Sparling, having seen him only a moment, and that
+while others were around.
+
+“May I come in?” he asked.
+
+“Yes; what do you want?”
+
+“To thank you for your kindness.”
+
+“Didn’t I tell you never to thank me for anything?” thundered the
+showman.
+
+“I beg your pardon, sir; I’ll take it all back,” twinkled Phil.
+
+“Oh, you will, will you, young scapegrace? What did you come here for
+anyway? Not to palaver about how thankful you are that you got knocked
+out, stayed a week in bed and had your salary paid all the time. I’ll
+bet you didn’t come for that. Want a raise of salary already?”
+
+“Hardly. If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll tell you, Mr. Sparling.”
+
+“Go on. Say it quick.”
+
+“I have been thinking about the fall I got, since I’ve been laid up.”
+
+“Nothing else to think about, eh?”
+
+“And the more I think about it, the more it bothers me.”
+
+“Does, eh?” grunted Mr. Sparling, busying himself with his papers.
+
+“Yes, sir. I don’t suppose it would be possible for me to get the
+broken wire now, would it? No doubt it was thrown away.”
+
+The showman peered up at the boy suspiciously.
+
+“What do you want of it?”
+
+“I thought I should like to examine it.”
+
+“Why?”
+
+“To see what had been done to it.”
+
+“Oh, you do, eh?”
+
+“Yes, sir.”
+
+“What do you think happened to that wire? It broke, didn’t it?”
+
+“Yes, I guess there is no doubt about it but somebody helped to break
+it.”
+
+“Young man, you are too confoundedly smart. Mark my words, you’ll die
+young. Yes; I have the wire. Here it is. Look at it. You are right;
+something happened to it, and I’ve been tearing myself to pieces, ever
+since, to find out who it was. I’ve got all my amateur sleuths working
+on the case, this very minute, to find out who the scoundrel is who cut
+the wire. Have you any idea about it? But there’s no use in asking you.
+I—”
+
+“I’ve got this,” answered Phil, tossing a small file on the table in
+front of Mr. Sparling.
+
+“What, what, what? A file?”
+
+“Yes, will you see if it fits the notch in the wire there?”
+
+The showman did so, holding file and wire up to the light for a better
+examination of them.
+
+“There can be no doubt of it,” answered the amazed showman, fixing
+wondering eyes on the young man. “Where did you get it?”
+
+“Picked it up.”
+
+“Where?”
+
+“In the dressing tent.”
+
+“Pooh! Then it doesn’t mean anything,” grunted Mr. Sparling.
+
+“If you knew where I picked it up you might think differently.”
+
+“Then where _did_ you get it?”
+
+“Found it in my own trunk.”
+
+“In your trunk?”
+
+Phil nodded.
+
+“How did it get there?”
+
+“I had left my trunk open after placing some things in it. When I went
+out to watch Teddy’s mule act I was in such a hurry that I forgot all
+about the trunk. When I came back, there it lay, near the end—”
+
+“Somebody put it there!” exploded the showman.
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“But who? Find that out for me—let me know who the man is and you’ll
+hear an explosion in this outfit that will raise the big top right off
+the ground.”
+
+“Leave it to me, Mr. Sparling, I’ll find him.”
+
+The owner laughed harshly.
+
+“How?”
+
+“I think I know who the man is at this very minute,” was Phil Forrest’s
+startling announcement, uttered in a quiet, even tone.
+
+Mr. Sparling leaped from his chair so suddenly that he overturned the
+table in front of him, sending his papers flying all over the place.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+AN ELEPHANT IN JAIL
+
+
+“Who is he?”
+
+“I would not care to answer that question just now, Mr. Sparling,”
+answered Phil calmly. “It would not be right—that is, not until I am
+sure about it.”
+
+“Tell me, or get out.”
+
+“Remember, Mr. Sparling, it is a serious accusation you ask me to make
+against a man on proof that you would say was not worth anything. It
+may take some time, but before I get through I’m going either to fasten
+the act on someone—on a particular one—or else prove that I am wholly
+mistaken.”
+
+The showman stormed, but Phil was obdurate. He refused to give the
+slightest intimation as to whom he suspected.
+
+“Am I to go, Mr. Sparling?” he asked after the interview had come to an
+end.
+
+“No! I expect you’ll own this show yet.”
+
+He watched Phil walking away from the tent. There was a scowl on the
+face of James Sparling.
+
+“If I thought that young rascal really thought he knew, I’d take him
+across my knee and spank him until he told me. No; he’s more of a man
+than any two in the whole outfit. I’d rather lose a horse than have
+anything happen to that lad.”
+
+Days followed each other in quick succession. The show had by this time
+swung around into Pennsylvania, and was playing a circuit of small
+mining towns with exceptionally good attendance. The owner of the show
+was in high good humor over the profits the show was earning. The acts
+of Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker had proved to be among the best
+drawing cards in the circus performance proper. So important did the
+owner consider them that the names of the two circus boys were now
+prominently displayed in the advertisements, as well as on the
+billboards.
+
+During all this time, Phil and Teddy had worked faithfully on the rings
+under the instruction of Mr. Miaco. On the side they were taking
+lessons in tumbling as well. For this purpose what is known as a
+“mechanic” was used to assist them in their schooling. This consisted
+of a belt placed about the beginner’s waist. >From it a rope led up
+over a pulley, the other end of the rope being securely held by
+someone.
+
+When all was ready the pupil would take a running start, jump into the
+air and try to turn. At the same time, the man holding the free end of
+the rope would give it a hard pull, thus jerking the boy free of the
+ground and preventing his falling on his head.
+
+After a few days of this, both boys had progressed so far that they
+were able to work on a mat, made up of several layers of thick carpet,
+without the aid of the “mechanic.” Of course their act lacked finish.
+Their movements were more or less clumsy, but they had mastered the
+principle of the somersault in remarkably quick time.
+
+Mr. Miaco said that in two more weeks they ought to be able to join the
+performers in their general tumbling act, which was one of the features
+of the show.
+
+There was not an hour of the day that found the two boys idle, now, and
+all this activity was viewed by Mr. Sparling with an approving eye.
+
+But one day there came an interruption that turned the thoughts of the
+big show family in another direction.
+
+An accident had happened at the morning parade that promised trouble
+for the show. A countryman, who had heard that the hide of an elephant
+could not be punctured, was struck by the happy thought of finding out
+for himself the truth or falsity of this theory. He had had an argument
+with some of his friends, he taking the ground that an elephant’s hide
+was no different from the hide of any other animal. And he promised to
+show them that it was not.
+
+All he needed was the opportunity. With his friends he had followed
+along with the parade, keeping abreast of the elephants, until finally
+the parade was halted by the crossing gates at a railroad.
+
+Now was the man’s chance to prove the theory false. The crowd closed in
+on the parade to get a closer view of the people, and this acted as a
+cover for the man’s experiment.
+
+Taking his penknife out he placed the point of it against the side of
+Emperor, as it chanced.
+
+“Now watch me,” he said, at the same time giving the knife a quick
+shove, intending merely to see if he could prick through the skin. His
+experiment succeeded beyond the fellow’s fondest expectations. The
+point of the knife had gone clear through Emperor’s hide.
+
+Emperor, ordinarily possessed of a keen sense of humor, coupled with
+great good nature, in this instance failed to see the humor of the
+proceeding. In fact, he objected promptly and in a most surprising
+manner.
+
+Like a flash, his trunk curled back. It caught the bold experimenter
+about the waist, and the next instant the fellow was dangling in the
+air over Emperor’s head, yelling lustily for help. The elephant had
+been watching the man, apparently suspecting something, and therefore
+was ready for him.
+
+“Put him down!” thundered Kennedy.
+
+The elephant obeyed, but in a manner not intended by the trainer when
+he gave the command.
+
+With a quick sweep of his trunk, Emperor hurled his tormentor from him.
+The man’s body did not stop until it struck a large plate glass window
+in a store front, disappearing into the store amid a terrific crashing
+of glass and breaking of woodwork, the man having carried most of the
+window with him in his sudden entry into the store.
+
+This was a feature of the parade that had not been advertised on the
+bills.
+
+The procession moved on a moment later, with old Emperor swinging along
+as meekly as if he had not just stirred up a heap of trouble for
+himself and his owner.
+
+The man, it was soon learned, had been badly hurt.
+
+But Mr. Sparling was on the ground almost at once, making an
+investigation. He quickly learned what had caused the trouble. And then
+he was mad all through. He raved up and down the line threatening to
+get out a warrant for the arrest of the man who had stuck a knife into
+his elephant.
+
+Later in the afternoon matters took a different turn. A lawyer called
+on the showman, demanding the payment of ten thousand dollars damages
+for the injuries sustained by his client, and which, he said, would in
+all probability make the man a cripple for life.
+
+If the showman had been angry before, he was in a towering rage now.
+
+“Get off this lot!” he roared. “If you show your face here again I’ll
+set the canvasmen on you! Then you won’t be able to leave without
+help.”
+
+The lawyer stood not upon the order of his going, and they saw no more
+of him. They had about concluded that they had heard the last of his
+demands, until just before the evening performance, when, as the cook
+tent was being struck, half a dozen deputy sheriffs suddenly made their
+appearance.
+
+They held papers permitting them to levy on anything they could lay
+their hands upon and hold it until full damages had been fixed by the
+courts.
+
+There was no trifling with the law, at least not then, and Mr. Sparling
+was shrewd enough to see that. However, he stormed and threatened, but
+all to no purpose.
+
+The intelligent deputies reasoned that Emperor, having been the cause
+of all the trouble, would be the proper chattel to levy upon. So they
+levied on him.
+
+The next thing was to get Emperor to jail. He would not budge an inch
+when the officers sought to take him. Then a happy thought struck them.
+They ordered the trainer to lead the elephant and follow them under
+pain of instant arrest if he refused.
+
+There was nothing for it but to obey. Protesting loudly, Kennedy
+started for the village with his great, hulking charge.
+
+Phil Forrest was as disconsolate as his employer was enraged. The boy’s
+act was spoiled, perhaps indefinitely, which might mean the loss of
+part of his salary.
+
+“That’s country justice,” growled the owner. “But I’ll telegraph my
+lawyer in the city and have him here by morning. Maybe it won’t be such
+a bad speculation tomorrow, for I’ll make this town go broke before it
+has fully settled the damages I’ll get out of it. Don’t be down in the
+mouth, Forrest. You’ll have your elephant back, and before many days at
+that. Go watch the show and forget your troubles.”
+
+It will be observed that, under his apparently excitable exterior, Mr.
+James Sparling was a philosopher.
+
+“Emperor’s in jail,” mourned Phil.
+
+The moment Mr. Kennedy returned, sullen and uncommunicative, Phil
+sought him out. He found the trainer in Mr. Sparling’s tent.
+
+“Where did they take him?” demanded Phil, breaking in on their
+conversation.
+
+“To jail,” answered Kennedy grimly. “First time I ever heard of such a
+thing as an elephant’s going to jail.”
+
+“That’s the idea. We’ll use that for an advertisement,” cried the ever
+alert showman, slapping his thighs. “Emperor, the performing elephant
+of the Great Sparling Combined Shows, jailed for assault. Fine, fine!
+How’ll that look in the newspapers? Why, men, it will fill the tent
+when we get to the next stand, whether we have the elephant or not.”
+
+“No; you’ve got to have the elephant,” contended Kennedy.
+
+“Well, perhaps that’s so. But I’ll wire our man ahead, just the same,
+and let him use the fact in his press notices.”
+
+“But how could they get him in the jail?” questioned Phil.
+
+“Jail? You see, they couldn’t. They wanted to, but the jail wouldn’t
+fit, or the elephant wouldn’t fit the jail, either way you please. When
+they discovered that they didn’t know what to do with him. Somebody
+suggested that they might lock him up in the blacksmith shop.”
+
+“The blacksmith shop?” exploded the owner.
+
+“I hope they don’t try to fit him with shoes,” he added, with a grim
+smile.
+
+“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they did. We’d have our elephant
+right quick. Yes, they tried the blacksmith shop on, and it worked, but
+it was a close fit. If Emperor had had a bump on his back as big as an
+egg he wouldn’t have gone in.”
+
+“And he’s there now?”
+
+“Yes. I reckon I’d better stay here and camp at the hotel, hadn’t I,
+so’s to be handy when your lawyer comes on? Emperor might tear up the
+town if he got loose.”
+
+Mr. Sparling reflected for a moment.
+
+“Kennedy, you’ll go with the show tonight. I don’t care if Emperor
+tears this town up by the roots. If none of us is here, then we shall
+not be to blame for what happens. We didn’t tell them to lock him up in
+the blacksmith shop. You can get back after the lawyer has gotten him
+out. That will be time enough.”
+
+“Where is the blacksmith shop?” questioned Phil.
+
+“Know where the graveyard is?”
+
+“Yes.”
+
+“It’s just the other side of that,” said Kennedy. “Church on this side,
+blacksmith shop on the other. Why?”
+
+“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering,” answered Phil, glancing up and
+finding the eyes of Mr. Sparling bent keenly upon him.
+
+The lad rose hastily, went out, and climbing up to the seat of a long
+pole wagon, sat down to ponder over the situation. He remained there
+until a teamster came to hook to the wagon and drive it over to be
+loaded. Then Phil got down, standing about with hands in his pockets.
+
+He was trying to make up his mind about something.
+
+“Where do we show tomorrow?” he asked of an employee.
+
+“Dobbsville, Ohio. We’ll be over the line before daybreak.”
+
+“Oh.”
+
+The circus tent was rapidly disappearing now. “In another state in the
+morning,” mused Phil.
+
+One by one the wagons began moving from the circus lot.
+
+“Get aboard the sleeping car,” called the driver of the wagon that Phil
+and Teddy usually slept in, as he drove past.
+
+“Hey, Phil!” called Teddy, suddenly appearing above the top of the box.
+
+“Hello, Teddy!”
+
+“What are you standing there for?”
+
+“Perhaps I’m getting the night air,” laughed Phil. “Fine, isn’t it?”
+
+“It might be better. But get in; get in. You’ll be left.”
+
+“Never mind me. I am not going on your wagon tonight. You may have the
+bed all to yourself. Don’t forget to leave your window open,” he
+jeered.
+
+“I have it open already. I’m going to put the screen in now to keep the
+mosquitoes out,” retorted Teddy, not to be outdone.
+
+“Has Mr. Sparling gone yet do you know?”
+
+“No; he and Kennedy are over yonder where the front door was, talking.”
+
+“All right.”
+
+Teddy’s head disappeared. No sooner had it done so than Phil Forrest
+turned and ran swiftly toward the opposite side of the lot. He ran in a
+crouching position, as if to avoid being seen.
+
+Reaching a fence which separated the road from the field, he threw
+himself down in the tall grass there and hid.
+
+“In Ohio tomorrow. I’m going to try it,” he muttered. “It can’t be
+wrong. They had no business, no right to do it,” he decided, his voice
+full of indignation.
+
+He heard the wagons rumbling by him on the hard road, the rattle of
+wheels accompanied by the shouts of the drivers as they urged their
+horses on.
+
+And there Phil lay hidden until every wagon had departed, headed for
+the border, and the circus lot became a barren, deserted and silent
+field.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+EMPEROR ANSWERS THE SIGNAL
+
+
+Making sure that everybody had left, Phil Forrest ran swiftly toward
+the village. He knew the way, having been downtown during the day.
+
+A light twinkled here and there in a house, where the people, no doubt,
+were discussing the exciting events of the day. As Phil drew near the
+cemetery he heard voices.
+
+It would not do to be discovered, so the lad climbed the fence and
+crept along the edge of the open plot. He was nearing the blacksmith
+shop and it was soon apparent to him that quite a number of men had
+gathered in front of the shop itself.
+
+Skulking up to the corner, the last rod being traversed on all fours,
+the circus boy flattened himself on the ground to listen, in an effort
+to learn if possible what were the plans of the villagers. If they had
+any he did not learn them, for their conversation was devoted
+principally to discussing what they had done to the Sparling show and
+what they would do further before they had finished with this business.
+
+Phil did learn, however, that the man who had been hurled through the
+store window was not fatally injured, as had been thought at first.
+Someone announced that the doctor had said the man would be about again
+in a couple of weeks.
+
+“I’m glad of that,” muttered Phil. “I shouldn’t like to think that
+Emperor had killed anyone. I wonder how he likes it in there.”
+
+Evidently the elephant was not well pleased, for the lad could hear him
+stirring restlessly and tugging at his chains.
+
+“Won’t he be surprised, though?” chuckled Phil. “I shouldn’t be
+surprised if he made a lot of noise. I hope he doesn’t, for I don’t
+want to stir the town up. I wonder if those fellows are going to stay
+there all night?”
+
+The loungers showed no inclination to move, so there was nothing for
+the boy to do but to lie still and wait.
+
+After a little he began to feel chilled, and began hopping around on
+hands and feet to start his blood moving. A little of this warmed him
+up considerably. This time he sat down in the fence corner. The night
+was moonless, but the stars were quite bright, enabling Phil to make
+out objects some distance away. He could see quite plainly the men
+gathered in front of the blacksmith shop.
+
+After a wait of what seemed hours to Phil, one of the watchers stirred
+himself.
+
+“Well, fellows, we might as well go home. The brute’s settled down for
+the night, I reckon.”
+
+“What time is it?”
+
+“Half past two,” announced the first speaker.
+
+“Well, well, I should say it was time to go. Not going to stay with
+him, are you, sheriff?”
+
+“Not necessary. He can’t get out.”
+
+After listening at the closed door, the one whom Phil judged to be an
+officer joined his companions and all walked leisurely down the road.
+
+The lad remained in the fence corner for sometime, but he stood up
+after they had gone. He did not dare move about much, fearing that
+Emperor might hear and know him and raise a great tumult.
+
+Phil waited all of half an hour; then he climbed the fence and slipped
+cautiously to the door of the shop.
+
+It was securely locked.
+
+“Oh, pshaw! That’s too bad,” grumbled the lad. “How am I going to do
+it?”
+
+Phil ran his fingers lightly over the fastening, which consisted of a
+strong hasp and a padlock.
+
+“What shall I do? I dare not try to break the lock. I should be
+committing a crime if I did. Perhaps I am already. No; I’m not, and I
+shall not. I’ll just speak to Emperor, then start off on foot after the
+show. It was foolish of me to think I could do anything to help Mr.
+Sparling and the elephant out of his trouble. I ought to be able to
+walk to the next stand and get there in time for the last breakfast
+call, providing I can find the way.”
+
+Perhaps Phil’s conscience troubled him a little, though he had done
+nothing worse than to follow the dictates of his kind heart in his
+desire to be of assistance to his employer and to befriend old Emperor.
+
+Placing his lips close to the door, Phil called softly.
+
+“Emperor!” he said.
+
+The restless swaying and heavy breathing within ceased suddenly.
+
+“Emperor!” repeated the lad, at the same time uttering the low whistle
+that the big elephant had come to know so well.
+
+A mighty cough from the interior of the blacksmith shop answered Phil
+Forrest’s signal.
+
+“Be quiet, Emperor. Be quiet! We are going to get you out as soon as we
+can, old fellow! You just behave yourself now. Do you hear?”
+
+Emperor emitted another loud cough.
+
+“Good old Emperor. I’ve got some peanuts for you, but I don’t know how
+I am going to give them to you. Wait a minute. Perhaps there is a
+window somewhere that I can toss them through.”
+
+Phil, after looking around, found a window with the small panes of
+glass missing. The window was so high that he could not reach it, so he
+stood on the ground and tossed the peanuts in, while the big elephant
+demonstrated the satisfaction he felt, in a series of sharp intakes of
+breath.
+
+“Now I’m going,” announced Phil. “Goodbye, Emperor. Here’s a lump of
+sugar. That’s all I have for you.”
+
+Phil turned away sorrowfully. His purpose had failed. Not because he
+doubted his ability to carry it out, but he was not sure that he would
+be right in doing so.
+
+A few rods down the road he paused, turned and uttered his shrill
+signal whistle, with no other idea in mind than to bring some comfort
+to the imprisoned beast.
+
+Emperor interpreted the signal otherwise, however. He uttered a loud,
+shrill trumpet; then things began to happen with a rapidity that fairly
+made the circus boy’s head whirl.
+
+A sudden jingle of metal, a crashing and rending from within the shop,
+caused Phil to halt sharply after he had once more started on his way.
+
+Crash! Bang!
+
+Emperor had brought his wonderful strength to bear on his flimsily
+constructed prison with disastrous results to the latter. First he had
+torn the blacksmith’s bellows out by the roots and hurled it from him.
+Next he set to work to smash everything within reach. A moment of this
+and the elephant had freed himself from the light chains with which the
+keeper had secured him.
+
+“Wha—oh, what is he doing?” gasped Phil Forrest.
+
+The boards on one side of the shop burst out as from a sudden
+explosion. Down came half a dozen of the light studdings that supported
+the roof on that side.
+
+By this time Emperor had worked himself into a fine temper. He turned
+his attention to the other side of the shop with similar disastrous
+results. The interior of the blacksmith shop was a wreck. It could not
+have been in much worse condition had it been struck by a cyclone.
+
+All of a sudden the elephant threw his whole weight against the big
+sliding door. It burst out with a report like that of a cannon.
+
+Emperor came staggering out into the open. There he paused, with
+twitching ears and curling trunk, peering into the darkness in search
+of Phil Forrest.
+
+Phil recovered from his surprise sufficiently to realize what had
+happened and that old Emperor was free once more.
+
+The lad uttered a shrill whistle. Emperor responded by a piercing
+scream. He then whirled, facing up the road in Phil’s direction, though
+unable to see the lad.
+
+Once more the boy whistled. Emperor was off in a twinkling.
+
+“Steady, steady, Emperor!” cautioned the lad, as he saw the huge hulk
+bearing swiftly down on him. “Easy, old boy!”
+
+But the elephant did not lessen his speed one particle. Phil felt sure,
+however, that he himself would not be harmed. He knew Emperor too well.
+With perfect confidence in the great animal, the lad threw both hands
+above his head, standing motionless in the center of the street right
+in the path of the oncoming beast.
+
+“Steady, steady, steady!” cautioned Phil. “Now up, Emperor!”
+
+The elephant’s long, sinuous trunk uncurled, coiled about the lad’s
+waist and the next instant Phil felt himself being lifted to the big
+beast’s head.
+
+“I’ve got him!” shouted Phil, carried away by the excitement of the
+moment. “Now, go it! Emperor! Go faster than you ever have since you
+chased lions in the jungle.”
+
+And Emperor did go it! As he tore down the village street he woke the
+echoes with his shrill trumpetings, bringing every man and woman in the
+little village tumbling from their beds.
+
+“The elephant is escaping!” cried the people, as they threw up their
+windows and gazed out. As they looked they saw a huge, shadowy shape
+hurling itself down the street, whereat they hastily withdrew their
+heads. In a few moments the men of the village came rushing out, all
+running toward the blacksmith shop to learn what had happened there.
+There followed a perfect pandemonium of yells when they discovered the
+wrecked condition of the place.
+
+In the meantime Phil had guided Emperor into the road that led to the
+show grounds of the previous day. The elephant was about to turn into
+the lot, when a sharp slap from his rider caused him to swing back into
+the highway on the trail of the wagons that had passed on some hours
+before.
+
+Once he had fairly started Emperor followed the trail, making the turns
+and following the twists of the road as unerringly as an Indian follows
+the trail of his enemy.
+
+“Hurrah!” shouted Phil, after they had got clear of the village. “I’ve
+won, I’ve won! But, oh, won’t there be a row back there when they find
+out what has happened, I wonder if they will follow us.”
+
+The thought startled him.
+
+“If they do they are liable to arrest me, believing that I let him out.
+_Go it_, Emperor! Go faster!”
+
+Emperor flapped his ears in reply and swung off at an increased gait.
+The darkness of early morn was soon succeeded by the graying dawn, and
+Phil felt a certain sense of relief as he realized that day was
+breaking. On they swept, past hamlets, by farm houses, where here and
+there men with milkpails in hand paused, startled, to rub their eyes
+and gaze upon the strange outfit that was rushing past them at such a
+pace.
+
+Phil could not repress a chuckle at such times, at thought of the
+sensation he was creating.
+
+The hours drew on until seven o’clock had arrived, and the sun was high
+in the heavens.
+
+“I must be getting near the place,” decided Phil. He knew he was on the
+right road, for he could plainly see the trail of the wagons and of the
+stock in the dust of the road before him. “Yes; there is some sort of a
+village way off yonder. I wonder if that is it?”
+
+A fluttering flag from the top of a far away center-pole, which he
+caught sight of a few minutes later, told the boy that it was.
+
+“Hurrah!” shouted Phil, waving his hat on high.
+
+At that moment a distant chorus of yells smote his ears. The lad
+listened intently. The shout was repeated. Holding fast to the
+headstall, he glanced back over the road. There, far to his rear, he
+discovered a cloud of dust, which a few minutes later resolved itself
+into a party of horsemen, riding at top speed.
+
+“They’re after me! Go faster! Go faster!” shouted the lad. As he spoke
+a rifle cracked somewhere behind him, but as Phil heard no bullet the
+leaden missile must have fallen far short of the mark.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+THE MYSTERY SOLVED
+
+
+As he neared the village Phil began to shout and wave his hat. After a
+time his shouts attracted the attention of some of the people on the
+circus lot, which was on his side of the village.
+
+“It’s Emperor coming back!” cried someone. “There’s somebody on him,”
+added another.
+
+“I’ll bet the day’s receipts that it’s that rascally Phil Forrest,”
+exclaimed Mr. Sparling, examining the cloud of dust with shaded eyes.
+“How in the world did it ever happen? I’ve been hunting all over the
+outfit for that boy this morning. Young Tucker said he thought Phil had
+remained behind, and I was afraid something had happened to the boy or
+that he had skipped the show. I might have known better. What’s that
+back of him?”
+
+“Somebody chasing them, boss,” a tentman informed him.
+
+“And they’re going to catch old Emperor sure.”
+
+“Not if I know it,” snapped Mr. Sparling. “_Hey, Rube_!” he howled.
+
+Canvasmen, roustabouts, performers and everybody within reach of his
+voice swarmed out into the open, armed with clubs, stones and anything
+they could lay their hands upon.
+
+“There’s a posse trying to catch Phil Forrest and old Emperor. Get a
+going! Head them off and drive them back!”
+
+Every man started on a run, some leaping on horses, clearing the circus
+lot, riding like so many cowboys. As they approached the lad perched on
+the bobbing head of the elephant the showmen set up a chorus of wild
+yells, to which Phil responded by waving his hat. He tried to stand up
+on Emperor’s head, narrowly missing a tumble, which he surely would
+have taken had not the elephant given him quick support with the
+ever-handy trunk.
+
+“They’re shooting at me,” cried Phil, as he swept by the showmen.
+
+“Line up!” commanded Mr. Sparling.
+
+His men stretched across the highway, with the mounted ones in front,
+his infantry behind. Soon the horsemen of the pursuing party came
+dashing up and brought their horses to a sudden stop.
+
+“What do you want?”
+
+“We demand the turning over of the elephant which one of your men stole
+from us. They’ve wrecked the blacksmith shop and there’ll be a pretty
+bill of damages to pay! Come now, before we take you back with us.”
+
+Mr. Sparling grinned.
+
+“Perhaps you don’t know that you are in the State of Ohio at the
+present moment, eh? If you’ll take my advice you’ll turn about and get
+home as fast as horseflesh will carry you. My lawyer will be in your
+town today, and he will arrange for the payment of all just damages. We
+decline to be robbed, however. We’ve got the elephant and we’re going
+to keep him.”
+
+“And we’re going to have the boy that broke in and released him.”
+
+“Ho, ho, ho!” laughed Mr. Sparling jovially. “I guess you’ll have the
+liveliest scrimmage you ever had in all your lives if you attempt to
+lay hands on that boy. Come, now, get out of here! If you attempt to
+raise the slightest disturbance I’ll have the bunch of you in the
+cooler, and we’ll be the boys to put you there if the town officials
+don’t act quickly enough.”
+
+“Boys, I guess it’s up to us,” decided the leader of the party.
+
+“Looks that way.”
+
+“Then what do you say if we stop and see the show?”
+
+“Good idea!”
+
+“I don’t care how many of you go to the show; but, mark me, it will
+cost you fifty cents a head, and at the first sign of disturbance
+you’ll see the biggest bunch of trouble headed your way!”
+
+“It’s all right, Mr. Sparling. We admit we’ve been done.”
+
+And that was the end of it. Mr. Sparling’s lawyer visited the town
+where the disturbance had occurred on the previous day, and at his
+client’s direction made a settlement that should have been wholly
+satisfactory to the injured parties. Ordinarily the showman would not
+have settled the case, in view of the fact that neither he nor any of
+his employees was directly responsible for the series of disasters. He
+did it almost wholly on account of Phil Forrest, who had asked him to.
+
+“Well, young man, I’ve paid the bills,” announced Mr. Sparling that
+afternoon before the evening performance.
+
+“Thank you,” glowed Phil.
+
+“Stop that! If there’s any thanks in it, they’re coming to you. Between
+you and the elephant we’ll have another turn-away today. You have
+already put a good bit of money in my pocket, and I’m not forgetting
+it. I have made definite arrangements for you and your chum to have a
+berth in a closed wagon after this. You will be good enough to offer no
+objections this time. What I say goes.”
+
+“I hope I did not do anything wrong in taking Emperor away. I’m afraid
+my conscience has troubled me ever since. But I didn’t intend to do
+anything wrong or to cause any further damage than already had been
+done.”
+
+“You did perfectly right, Forrest. That was a stroke of genius. As for
+damage, I tell you I have settled all of that. One of these days you
+come in when I’m not busy and we’ll talk about next season. I want you
+to stay with me.”
+
+Phil left his employer, the lad’s face flushed and his eyes sparkling.
+Altogether, he was a very happy boy. The only real cloud that had
+darkened his horizon was that anyone should feel such an enmity toward
+him as to desire to take his life; or, at least, to cause him so
+serious an injury as to put an end to the career that now seemed so
+promising.
+
+“I know why, of course,” mused the lad. “It was jealousy. I am more
+sure than ever as to the identity of the man who did it. When I get a
+good opportunity I am going to face him with it. I’m not afraid of the
+man. As it is, he might try it again; but if he understands that I know
+he will not dare try it, fearing I may have told someone else.”
+
+Having come to this wise conclusion, Phil proceeded to the big top,
+where he and Teddy Tucker were to take their afternoon practice on the
+flying rings, pausing on the way to pass a handful of peanuts to
+Emperor, who was again in his place, and give the elephant’s trainer a
+happy nod.
+
+“I’ve noticed of late that Signor Navaro acts rather grouchy over you
+boys working on his apparatus. You want to look out for these
+foreigners. Some of them are revengeful,” cautioned Mr. Miaco.
+
+Signor Navaro was the leading performer in the flying-rings act. With
+him was his young son, Rodney Palmer and a young girl performer, whose
+father was a clown in the show.
+
+Phil shot a sharp glance at Mr. Miaco, then dropped his eyes.
+
+“I guess nobody would be jealous of me,” laughed the lad. “I’m only a
+beginner, and a clumsy one at that. All I can do is to ride an elephant
+and fall off, nearly killing myself.”
+
+“Nevertheless, you take my advice.”
+
+“I will, thank you.”
+
+The boys began their work after putting on their working clothes,
+consisting of old silk undershirts and linen trunks. This left them
+free for the full play of their muscles, which, by this time, were of
+exceptionally fine quality. Not big and bunchy, but like thin bands of
+pliable steel. Both Phil and Teddy appeared to have grown half a head
+taller since they joined out with the circus.
+
+“Put a little more finish in that cutoff movement,” directed their
+instructor. “The way you do it, Teddy, you remind me of a man trying to
+kick out a window. There, that’s better.”
+
+And so it went on. Days came and went and the steady practice of the
+two circus boys continued, but if Mr. Sparling knew what they were
+doing he made no reference to it. He probably did know, for little went
+on in the Sparling Combined Shows that he was not aware of.
+
+Nothing out of the routine occurred, until, late in the season, they
+pitched their tents in Canton, Ohio, when something happened that
+brought to a climax the certainty of the careers of the circus boys.
+
+All day long the clouds had been threatening. But, though keen eyes
+were watching the scudding clouds, no apprehension was felt, as it was
+believed to be but a passing thunderstorm that was coming up.
+
+The storm did not break until late in the afternoon when the show was
+more than half over. Phil had made his grand entry on Emperor, and
+Teddy had nearly sent the spectators into hysterics by his funny antics
+on the back of Jumbo, the educated mule.
+
+All at once the circus men glanced aloft as the shrill whistle of the
+boss canvasman trilled somewhere outside the big top. The audience, if
+they heard, gave no heed. They were too much interested in the show.
+
+To the showmen the whistle meant that the emergency gang was being
+summoned in haste to stake down emergency ropes to protect the tent
+from a windstorm that was coming up.
+
+Phil took a quick survey of the upper part of the tent. Two acts were
+just beginning up there. A trapeze act was on, and the four performers
+were swinging out on the flying rings.
+
+Both sets of performers were in rather perilous positions were the wind
+to blow very hard, as Phil well understood. He stepped off until he
+found a quarter pole at his back against which he leaned that he might
+watch the better the lofty performers.
+
+All at once there was a blast against the big top that sounded as if a
+great blow had been delivered. The audience half rose. The tent shook
+from end to end.
+
+“Sit down!” bellowed the ringmaster. “It’s only a puff of wind.”
+
+Before the words were out of his mouth a piercing scream roused the
+audience almost to the verge of panic.
+
+Phil, whose attention had been drawn to the people for the moment, shot
+a swift glance up into the somber haze of the peak of the big top.
+
+Something had happened. But what?
+
+“They’re falling!” he gasped.
+
+The blow had loosened nearly every bit of the aerial apparatus under
+the circus tent.
+
+“There go the trapeze performers!”
+
+Down they came, landing with a whack in the net with their apparatus
+tumbling after them. But they were out of the net in a twinkling, none
+the worse for their accident. Almost at the same moment there were
+other screams.
+
+“There go the rings!”
+
+There was no net under the flying ring performers. Two of them shot
+toward the ground. When they struck, one was on top of the other. The
+man at the bottom was Signor Navaro, his son having fallen prone across
+him. The two other performers in the act had grabbed a rope and saved
+themselves.
+
+Men picked the two fallen performers up hastily and bore them to the
+dressing tent, where Phil hastened the moment he was sure that all
+danger of a panic had passed. The gust of wind had driven the clouds
+away and the sun flashed out brilliantly.
+
+A moment later the performance was going on with a rush, the band
+playing a lively tune.
+
+Phil, when he reached the dressing tent, learned that Signor Navaro was
+seriously hurt, though his son was suffering merely from shock. The
+father had sustained several broken bones.
+
+Phil approached the injured performer and leaned over him. The man was
+conscious.
+
+“I’m sorry, very sorry, sir,” breathed the boy sympathetically.
+
+“You needn’t be. You’ll get what you want,” murmured the circus man.
+
+“I don’t understand,” wondered Phil.
+
+“You’ll get my act.”
+
+“Is that what you think I have been working for?”
+
+Signor Navaro nodded.
+
+“You are mistaken. Of course, if you are not able to perform any more
+this season I shall try to get it, but when you are able to go to work
+I shall give it up willingly, even if I succeed in getting it during
+that time. Is that why you played that trick on me?” demanded the lad.
+
+“You know?” questioned Signor Navaro, with a start.
+
+Phil gave a slight nod.
+
+“Why did you put the file in my trunk—the file you cut the wire with?”
+
+“I thought I dropped it in my own trunk. Somebody surprised me and I
+was afraid they would catch me with it in my hand and suspect.”
+
+“That’s what I thought.”
+
+“You are sharp. And you told no one?”
+
+“No. But I had made up my mind to tell you. I didn’t think it would
+have to be this way, though. I’m sorry it is.”
+
+“Well, I have my punishment. It served me right. I was crazed with
+jealousy. I—how is the boy?”
+
+“Not badly hurt, I believe. He will be all right in a few days, and I
+hope you will be able to join out in a short time.”
+
+Signor Navaro extended a feeble hand, which Phil pressed softly.
+
+“Forgive me, boy. Will you?”
+
+“Yes,” whispered Phil.
+
+“And you will tell no—”
+
+“There is nothing to tell, Signor Navaro. If there is anything I can do
+for you, tell me, and I shall have great happiness in doing it,”
+breathed the lad.
+
+A final grip of the hands of the boy and the injured performer
+followed, after which Phil Forrest stepped back to make way for the
+surgeon, who had hurried to a wagon to fetch his case.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+CONCLUSION
+
+
+“You see, an accident always casts a cloud over a show and makes the
+performers uncertain,” said Mr. Miaco that night as he and Phil were
+watching the performance from the end of the band platform.
+
+“I should think it would,” mused the boy.
+
+Soon after that Phil went to his wagon and turned in, his mind still on
+Signor Navaro, who had been taken to a hospital, where he was destined
+to remain for many weeks.
+
+“I guess it doesn’t pay, in the long run, to be dishonorable,” mused
+the lad as he was dropping off to sleep.
+
+The next morning Phil was up bright and early, very much refreshed
+after a good night’s rest between his blankets in the comfortable
+sleeping wagon. Teddy, however, declared that he didn’t like it. He
+said he preferred to sleep on a pile of canvas in the open air, even if
+he did get wet once in a while.
+
+Later in the morning, after Mr. Sparling had had time to dispose of his
+usual rush of morning business, which consisted of hearing reports from
+his heads of departments, and giving his orders for the day, Phil
+sought out his employer in the little dog tent.
+
+“I’m very sorry about the accident, Mr. Sparling,” greeted Phil.
+
+“Yes; it ties up one act. It will be some days before I can get another
+team in to take it up, and here we are just beginning to play the big
+towns. I have been trying to figure out if there was not someone in the
+show who could double in that act and get away with it,” mused the
+showman. “How’d you sleep?”
+
+“Fine. Is there no one you can think of who could fill the bill, Mr.
+Sparling?”
+
+“No; that’s the rub. You know of anyone?”
+
+“How about myself.”
+
+“What?”
+
+Mr. Sparling surveyed the lad in surprised inquiry.
+
+“I think I can make a pretty fair showing on the rings. Of course, if
+Signor Navaro gets well and comes back, I shall be glad to give the act
+back to him. I know something about the flying rings.”
+
+“Young man, is there anything in this show that you can’t do?” demanded
+Mr. Sparling, with an attempt at sternness.
+
+“A great many things, sir. Then, again, there are some others that I
+have confidence enough in myself to believe I can do. You see, I have
+been practicing on the rings ever since I joined out.”
+
+“But you are only one. We shall need two performers,” objected the
+owner.
+
+“Teddy Tucker has been working with me. He is fully as good on the
+flying rings as I am, if not better.”
+
+“H-m-m-m!” mused the showman. “Come over to the big top and let’s see
+what you really can do,” he said, starting up.
+
+Phil ran in search of Teddy and in a few minutes the two boys appeared
+in the arena, ready for the rehearsal.
+
+Mr. Miaco, who had been called on and informed of the news, accompanied
+them. It was he who hauled the boys up to the rings far up toward the
+top of the tent.
+
+“Get a net under there! We don’t want to lose any more performers this
+season,” the clown commanded.
+
+After some little delay the net was spread and the showman motioned for
+the performance to proceed, walking over and taking his seat on the
+boards so that he might watch the performance from the viewpoint of the
+audience.
+
+With the utmost confidence the boys went through the act without a
+slip. They did everything that Signor Navaro had done in his
+performance, adding some clever feats of their own that had been
+devised with the help of Mr. Miaco. Mr. Sparling looked on with
+twinkling eyes and frequent nods of approval.
+
+“Fine! Fine! One of the best flying-ring acts I ever saw,” he shouted,
+when finally the lads rounded out their act by a series of rapid
+evolutions commonly known as “skinning the cat.” Even in this their act
+was attended with variations.
+
+The boys concluded by a graceful drop into the net, from which they
+bounded into the air, swung themselves to the ground, each throwing a
+kiss to the grinning manager.
+
+A number of performers who had been a witness to the performance
+clapped their hands and shouted “bravo!”
+
+Mr. Sparling called the lads to him.
+
+“The act is yours,” he said. “It is better than Navaro’s. Each of you
+will draw twenty five dollars a week for the rest of the season,” he
+announced to the proud circus boys, who thereupon ran to the dressing
+tent to take a quick bath and get into their costumes ready for the
+parade.
+
+“See to it that they have the net spread, Mr. Ducro,” he directed.
+“Never permit them to perform without it.”
+
+That afternoon the boys made their first appearance in the flying-ring
+exhibition, and their act really proved a sensation. Mr. Sparling, who
+was observing it from the side, kept his head bobbing with nods of
+approval and muttered comments.
+
+After the show Phil suggested that thereafter Teddy be allowed to use a
+clown makeup, because his funny antics in the air were more fitted to
+the character of a clown than to that of a finished performer.
+
+To this the owner readily agreed, and that night they tried it with
+tremendous success.
+
+The days that followed were bright ones for the circus boys. Each day
+seemed an improvement over the previous one. The season drew rapidly to
+a close and they looked forward to the day with keen regret.
+
+One day Mr. Sparling summoned them to his tent.
+
+“Are you boys ready to sign up for next season?” he asked.
+
+“I should like to,” answered Phil.
+
+“This will be a railroad show next season, the third largest show on
+the road, and I want you both.”
+
+“Thank you; I shall join gladly.”
+
+“So will I,” chorused Teddy.
+
+“Your salaries will be fifty dollars a week next season. And if you
+wish a vaudeville engagement for the winter I think I shall be able to
+get one for you.”
+
+“We are going to school, Mr. Sparling. Teddy and I will be hard at work
+over our books next week. But we are going to keep up our practice all
+winter and perhaps we may have some new acts to surprise you with in
+the spring,” laughed Phil, his face aglow with happiness.
+
+A week later found the lads back in Edmeston, bronzed, healthy, manly
+and admired by all who saw them. Phil had nearly four hundred dollars
+in the bank, while Teddy had about one hundred less.
+
+Phil’s first duty after greeting Mrs. Cahill was to call on his uncle,
+who begrudgingly allowed his nephew to shake hands with him. Next day
+the circus boys dropped into their old routine life and applied
+themselves to their studies, at the same time looking forward to the
+day when the grass should grow green again and the little red wagons
+roll out for their summer journeyings.
+
+Here we will leave them. But Phil and his companion will be heard from
+again in a following volume, to be published immediately, entitled,
+“THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT; Or, Winning New Laurels on the
+Tanbark.” In this volume their thrilling adventures under the billowing
+canvas are to be continued, leading them on to greater triumphs and
+successes.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS ***
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