CHAPTER XVIII
A STARTLING DISCOVERY
Phil's recovery was rapid, though four days passed before he waspermitted to leave his bed. As soon as he was able to getdownstairs and sit out on the front porch of the hotel he foundhimself an object of interest as well as curiosity.
The story of his accident had been talked of until it had grownout of all proportion to the real facts in the case. The boys ofthe village hung over the porch rail and eyed him wonderingly andadmiringly. It did not fall to their lot every day to getacquainted with a real circus boy. They asked him all manner ofquestions, which the lad answered gladly, for even though he hadsuffered a severe accident, he was not beyond enjoying theadmiration 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 overthe 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. JamesSparling, on the day following the accident, was asking himselfalmost the same questions.
He sent for Mr. Kennedy after having disposed of his earlymorning business. There was a scowl on the owner's face, but ithad not been caused by the telegram which lay on the desk beforehim, informing him that Phil was not seriously hurt. That was asource of keen satisfaction to the showman, for he felt that hecould not afford to lose the young circus boy.
Teddy was so upset over it, however, that the boss had about madeup his mind to let Phil's companion go back and join him.
While the showman was thinking the matter over, Mr. Kennedyappeared 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 nofurther 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, whenyoung Forrest got hurt, Kennedy."
"I can't tell you any more about it than you heard last night. Hehad started to make his dive before I noticed that anything waswrong. He didn't stop until he landed on his head. They saidthe 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 generalshaking up; that's all, but it's enough. How are the bulls thismorning?"
"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 thebulls; don't you think so?"
The trainer grinned and nodded.
"Kennedy, you've been making your brags that you always tell methe truth. I am going to ask you a question, and I want you tosee if you can make that boast good."
"Yes, sir."
Perhaps the trainer understood something of what was in hisemployer's mind, for his lips closed sharply while his jaw tookon a belligerent look.
"How did that wire come to break, Kennedy?"
The question came out with a snap, as if the showman already hadmade 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 ofa violent outburst of temper, which Kennedy fully expected, theowner 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 whodid it?"
"I don't know. I haven't the least idea who would do a job likethat in this show. I hope the mean hound will take French leavebefore 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 hisinside coat pocket, carefully unwrapped it, placing the contentson 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 breakoccurred. Those are the two."
Mr. Sparling regarded them critically.
"How can you tell that the wire has been cut, except where youcut 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 atthe weakened point."
"H-m-m-m."
"If you will examine it, an inch or two above the cut, you willfind two or three file marks, where the file started to cut, thenwas moved down. Probably slipped. Looks like it. Don't youthink I'm right, sir?"
Mr. Sparling nodded reflectively.
"There can be no doubt of it. You think it was done between thetwo 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 daywas dark and stormy. There was a time late in the afternoon,before the torches were lighted, when the big top was almost indarkness. It's my idea that the job was done then. Anybody couldhave done it without being discovered. It's likely there wasn'tanybody in the tent except himself at the time."
"Kennedy, I want you to find out who did that. Understand?"
The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings; Or, Making the Start in the Sawdust Life Page 19