The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings; Or, Making the Start in the Sawdust Life

by Edgar B. P. Darlington

  CHAPTER XVI

  HIS FIRST SETBACK

  "Tha--thank--"

  "Out with you!"

  Laughing, his face flushed with pride and satisfaction, Phil didmove. Not even pausing to note what direction he should go, hehurried on toward the village, perhaps more by instinct thanotherwise. He was too full of this wonderful thing that had cometo him--success--to take note of his surroundings.

  To Phil there was no rain. Though he already was drenched to theskin he did not know it.

  All at once he pulled himself up sharply.

  "Phil Forrest, you are getting excited," he chided. "Now, don'tyou try to make yourself believe you are the whole show, for youare 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 leveland try to earn your money. Twenty dollars a week! Why, it'swealth! I can see Uncle Abner shaking his stick when he hears ofit. 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 bejealous when they hear about how I am getting on in the world."

  Thus talking to himself, Phil plodded on in the storm until hereached the business part of the town. There he found a storeand soon had provided himself with a serviceable rubber coat, apair 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, sofar as the performers were concerned, and the clowns looked muchmore funny than they felt.

  Mr. Miaco enlivened the spirits of those on the hayrack byclimbing to the back of one of the horses drawing the clowns'wagon, where he sat with a doll's parasol over his head and adoll in his arms singing a lullaby.

  The people who were massed along the sidewalks of the main streetdid not appear to mind the rain at all. They were too muchinterested 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 restof us do. He keeps them on the table. I wish I could put myfeet on the table."

  Everybody within hearing laughed heartily.

  In the tents there was little to remind one of the dismalweather, save for the roar of the falling rain on the canvasoverhead. Straw had been piled all about on the ground inside thetwo large tents, and only here and there were there any muddyspots, though the odor of fresh wet grass was everywhere.

  The afternoon performance went off without a hitch, though theperformers were somewhat more slow than usual, owing to theuncertainty of the footing for man and beast. Phil Forrest'sexhibition was even more successful than it had been in the lastshow town. He was obliged to run back to the ring and showhimself after having been carried from the tent by Emperor. Thistime, however, his stage fright had entirely left him, never toreturn. He was now a seasoned showman, after something less thanthree 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 flyingrings, which they had obtained permission to use.

  Mr. Miaco, himself an all around acrobat, was on hand to watchtheir work and to offer suggestions. He had taken a keeninterest in Phil Forrest, seeing in the lad the making of ahigh-class circus performer.

  The rings were let down to within about ten feet of the sawdustring, and one at a time the two lads were hoisted by the clownuntil their fingers grasped the iron rings.

  With several violent movements of their bodies they curled theirfeet up, slipping them through the rings, first having graspedthe 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 youdizzy, 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 speedever increasing, and as he went higher and higher, Phil lethimself down, fastening his hands on the rings that he mightassist 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 madethree attempts before succeeding. But he mastered it and came upsmiling.

  "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 thepoint where the rings would start on their backward flight,permitted his legs to slip through the rings, catching them withhis feet.

  He swept back, head and arms hanging down, as skillfully as if hehad been doing that very thing right along.

  "You'll do," emphasized the clown. "You will need to put alittle more finish in your work. I'll give you a lesson in thatnext 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 bigtop to practice and play, many of them stood about watching theboys work. They nodded their heads approvingly when Philfinished and swung himself to the ground.

  Teddy, on his part, overrated his ability when it came to hangingby his feet.

  "Look out!" warned half a dozen performers at once.

  He had not turned his left foot into the position where it wouldcatch and hold in the ring. Their trained eyes had noted thisomission instantly.

  The foot, of course, failed to catch, and Teddy uttered a howlwhen he found himself falling. His fall, however, was checked bya sharp jolt. The right foot had caught properly. As he sweptpast the laughing performers he was dangling in the air like ahuge spider, both hands and one foot clawing the air in adesperate manner.

  There was nothing they could do to liberate him from hisuncomfortable position until the momentum of his swing hadlessened sufficiently to enable them to catch him.

  "Hold your right steady!" cautioned Miaco. "If you twist ityou'll take a beauty tumble."

  Teddy hadn't thought of that before. Had Miaco known the ladbetter 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 acannon.

  Phil tried to catch him, but stumbled and fell over a rope, whileTeddy shot over his head, landing on and diving head first into apile of straw that had just been brought in to bed down the tentfor the evening performance.

  Nothing of Teddy save his feet was visible.

  They hauled him out by those selfsame feet, and, afterdisentangling him from the straws that clung to him, wererelieved to find that he had not been hurt in the least.

  "I guess we shall have to put a net under you. Lucky for youthat that pile of straw happened to get in your way. Do you knowwhat 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 holdup the coffeepot tomorrow morning if you do much more."

  "Do you think we will be able to accomplish anything on theflying rings, Mr. Miaco?" asked Phil after they had returned tothe dressing tent.

  "There is no doubt of it. Were I in your place I should take anhour's work on them every day. Besides building you upgenerally, it will make you surer and better able to handleyourself. Then, again, you never know what
minute you may be ableto increase your income. People in this business often profit byothers' 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 outany minute yourself, then somebody else will get your job, if youare 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 thedressing tent until it was time for each to begin making up forthe evening performance.

  The dressing tent was the real home of the performers. They knewno other. It was there that they unpacked their trunks--therethat during their brief stay they pinned up against the canvaswalls the pictures of their loved ones, many of whom were faracross the sea. A bit of ribbon here, a faded flower drawn fromthe recess of a trunk full of silk and spangles, told of thetender hearts that were beating beneath those iron-muscledbreasts, and that they were as much human beings as theirbrothers in other walks of life.

  Much of this Phil understood in a vague way as he watched themfrom day to day. He was beginning to like these big-hearted,big-muscled fellows, though there were those among them who werenot 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 wasmade up and ready for his act. As his exhibition came on at thevery beginning he had to be ready early. Then, again, he wasobliged to walk all the way to the menagerie tent to reach hiselephant.

  Throwing a robe over his shoulders and pulling his hat well downover his eyes, the lad pushed the silken curtains aside and beganworking his way toward the front, beating against the human tidethat had set in against him, wet, dripping, but good natured.

  "Going to have a wet night," observed Teddy, whom he met at theentrance to the menagerie tent.

  "Looks that way. But never mind; I'll share my rubber coat withyou. We can put it over us and sit up to sleep. That will make awaterproof tent. Perhaps we may be able to find a stake orsomething to stick up in the middle of the coat."

  "But the canvas under us will be soaked," grumbled Teddy. "We'llbe wetter than ever."

  "We'll gather some straw and tie it up in a tight bundle to putunder us when we get located. There goes the band. I must beoff, 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, startingoff on a run.

  The grand entry was made, Phil crouching low in the bonnet on thebig beast's head. It was an uncomfortable position, but he didnot mind it in the least. The only thing that troubled Phil wasthe fear that the head gear might become disarranged and spoilthe effect of his surprise. There were many in the tent who hadseen him make his flight at the afternoon performance, and hadreturned with their friends almost solely to witness the prettyspectacle again.

  The time had arrived for Emperor to rise for his grand salute tothe audience. Mr. Kennedy had given Phil his cue, the lad hadbraced himself to straighten up suddenly. A strap had beenattached to the elephant's head harness for Phil to take hold ofto steady himself by when he first straightened up. Until hisposition was erect Emperor could not grasp the boy's legs withhis 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 facesbefore him.

  While they were applauding he fastened the flying wire to thering in his belt. The wire, which was suspended from above, wasso small that it was wholly invisible to the spectators, whichheightened the effect of his flight. So absorbed were the peoplein watching the slender figure each time that they failed toobserve 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 dovegracefully out into the air.

  There was a slight jolt. Instantly he knew that something waswrong. The audience, too, instinctively felt that the act was notending as it should.

  Phil was falling. He was plunging straight toward the ring, headfirst. He struck heavily, crumpling up in a little heap, thenstraightening out, while half a dozen attendants ran to the lad,hastily picking him up and hurrying to the dressing tent with thelimp, unconscious form.