The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings Part 12

Phil was halted by the a.s.sistant 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 a.s.sistant.

"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 a.s.sistant, "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, wis.h.i.+ng 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 s.h.i.+rt 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 s.p.a.ce 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 a.s.sistant. 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 a.s.sistant 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 ma.s.sed 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."