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

by Edgar B. P. Darlington

  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 thepeople on the circus lot, which was on his side of the village.

  "It's Emperor coming back!" cried someone. "There's somebody onhim," added another.

  "I'll bet the day's receipts that it's that rascally PhilForrest," exclaimed Mr. Sparling, examining the cloud of dustwith shaded eyes. "How in the world did it ever happen? I'vebeen hunting all over the outfit for that boy this morning.Young Tucker said he thought Phil had remained behind, and I wasafraid something had happened to the boy or that he had skippedthe 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!"_ hehowled.

  Canvasmen, roustabouts, performers and everybody within reach ofhis voice swarmed out into the open, armed with clubs, stones andanything 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 thecircus lot, riding like so many cowboys. As they approached thelad perched on the bobbing head of the elephant the showmen setup a chorus of wild yells, to which Phil responded by waving hishat. He tried to stand up on Emperor's head, narrowly missing atumble, which he surely would have taken had not the elephantgiven 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 infront, his infantry behind. Soon the horsemen of the pursuingparty 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 menstole from us. They've wrecked the blacksmith shop and there'llbe a pretty bill of damages to pay! Come now, before we take youback with us."

  Mr. Sparling grinned.

  "Perhaps you don't know that you are in the State of Ohio at thepresent moment, eh? If you'll take my advice you'll turn aboutand get home as fast as horseflesh will carry you. My lawyerwill be in your town today, and he will arrange for the paymentof all just damages. We decline to be robbed, however. We'vegot 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'llhave the liveliest scrimmage you ever had in all your lives ifyou attempt to lay hands on that boy. Come, now, get out ofhere! If you attempt to raise the slightest disturbance I'll havethe bunch of you in the cooler, and we'll be the boys to put youthere 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, itwill cost you fifty cents a head, and at the first sign ofdisturbance you'll see the biggest bunch of trouble headed yourway!"

  "It's all right, Mr. Sparling. We admit we've been done."

  And that was the end of it. Mr. Sparling's lawyer visited thetown where the disturbance had occurred on the previous day, andat his client's direction made a settlement that should have beenwholly satisfactory to the injured parties. Ordinarily theshowman would not have settled the case, in view of the fact thatneither he nor any of his employees was directly responsible forthe series of disasters. He did it almost wholly on account ofPhil Forrest, who had asked him to.

  "Well, young man, I've paid the bills," announced Mr. Sparlingthat 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'mnot forgetting it. I have made definite arrangements for you andyour chum to have a berth in a closed wagon after this. You willbe good enough to offer no objections this time. What I saygoes."

  "I hope I did not do anything wrong in taking Emperor away. I'mafraid my conscience has troubled me ever since. But I didn'tintend to do anything wrong or to cause any further damage thanalready 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 ofthese days you come in when I'm not busy and we'll talk aboutnext season. I want you to stay with me."

  Phil left his employer, the lad's face flushed and his eyessparkling. Altogether, he was a very happy boy. The only realcloud that had darkened his horizon was that anyone should feelsuch an enmity toward him as to desire to take his life; or, atleast, to cause him so serious an injury as to put an end to thecareer that now seemed so promising.

  "I know why, of course," mused the lad. "It was jealousy. I ammore 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'mnot afraid of the man. As it is, he might try it again; but ifhe understands that I know he will not dare try it, fearing I mayhave told someone else."

  Having come to this wise conclusion, Phil proceeded to the bigtop, where he and Teddy Tucker were to take their afternoonpractice on the flying rings, pausing on the way to pass ahandful of peanuts to Emperor, who was again in his place, andgive the elephant's trainer a happy nod.

  "I've noticed of late that Signor Navaro acts rather grouchy overyou boys working on his apparatus. You want to look out forthese 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 girlperformer, 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'monly a beginner, and a clumsy one at that. All I can do is toride 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 leftthem free for the full play of their muscles, which, by thistime, were of exceptionally fine quality. Not big and bunchy,but like thin bands of pliable steel. Both Phil and Teddyappeared to have grown half a head taller since they joined outwith the circus.

  "Put a little more finish in that cutoff movement," directedtheir instructor. "The way you do it, Teddy, you remind me of aman trying to kick out a window. There, that's better."

  And so it went on. Days came and went and the steady practice ofthe two circus boys continued, but if Mr. Sparling knew what theywere doing he made no reference to it. He probably did know, forlittle went on in the Sparling Combined Shows that he was notaware of.

  Nothing out of the routine occurred, until, late in the season,they pitched their tents in Canton, Ohio, when something happenedthat brought to a climax the certainty of the careers of thecircus boys.

  All day long the clouds had been threatening. But, though keeneyes were watching the scudding clouds, no apprehension was felt,as it was believed to be but a passing thunderstorm that wascoming up.

  The storm did not break until late in the afternoon when the showwas more than half over. Phil had made his grand entry onEmperor, and Teddy had nearly sent the spectators into hystericsby his funny antics on the back of Jumbo, the educated mule.

  All at once the circus men glanced aloft as the shrill whistle ofthe boss canvasman trilled somewhere outside the big top. Theaudience, if they heard, gave no heed. They were too
muchinterested in the show.

  To the showmen the whistle meant that the emergency gang wasbeing summoned in haste to stake down emergency ropes to protectthe tent from a windstorm that was coming up.

  Phil took a quick survey of the upper part of the tent. Two actswere just beginning up there. A trapeze act was on, and the fourperformers were swinging out on the flying rings.

  Both sets of performers were in rather perilous positions werethe wind to blow very hard, as Phil well understood. He steppedoff until he found a quarter pole at his back against which heleaned that he might watch the better the lofty performers.

  All at once there was a blast against the big top that sounded asif a great blow had been delivered. The audience half rose. Thetent 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 rousedthe audience almost to the verge of panic.

  Phil, whose attention had been drawn to the people for themoment, shot a swift glance up into the somber haze of the peakof the big top.

  Something had happened. But what?

  "They're falling!" he gasped.

  The blow had loosened nearly every bit of the aerial apparatusunder the circus tent.

  "There go the trapeze performers!"

  Down they came, landing with a whack in the net with theirapparatus tumbling after them. But they were out of the net in atwinkling, none the worse for their accident. Almost at the samemoment there were other screams.

  "There go the rings!"

  There was no net under the flying ring performers. Two of themshot toward the ground. When they struck, one was on top of theother. The man at the bottom was Signor Navaro, his son havingfallen prone across him. The two other performers in the act hadgrabbed a rope and saved themselves.

  Men picked the two fallen performers up hastily and bore them tothe dressing tent, where Phil hastened the moment he was surethat all danger of a panic had passed. The gust of wind haddriven the clouds away and the sun flashed out brilliantly.

  A moment later the performance was going on with a rush, the bandplaying a lively tune.

  Phil, when he reached the dressing tent, learned that SignorNavaro was seriously hurt, though his son was suffering merelyfrom shock. The father had sustained several broken bones.

  Phil approached the injured performer and leaned over him. Theman was conscious.

  "I'm sorry, very sorry, sir," breathed the boy sympathetically.

  "You needn't be. You'll get what you want," murmured the circusman.

  "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 anymore this season I shall try to get it, but when you are able togo to work I shall give it up willingly, even if I succeed ingetting it during that time. Is that why you played that trickon 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 wirewith?"

  "I thought I dropped it in my own trunk. Somebody surprised meand I was afraid they would catch me with it in my hand andsuspect."

  "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 itwould have to be this way, though. I'm sorry it is."

  "Well, I have my punishment. It served me right. I was crazedwith 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 Ican do for you, tell me, and I shall have great happiness indoing it," breathed the lad.

  A final grip of the hands of the boy and the injured performerfollowed, after which Phil Forrest stepped back to make way forthe surgeon, who had hurried to a wagon to fetch his case.