"I thought I had heard you mention that we were to do so."

"Why do you ask that question?"

"I'll answer it by asking another," smiled the Circus Boy.

"When do we make that stand?"

The showman consulted his route book.

"A week from next Tuesday," he said. "Anything wrong about that?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Nothing except that there is another show billed to play there the day before."

"What?"

Mr. Sparling bent a keen gaze on Phil's face, to make sure the lad was not joking.

"Yes, the Sully Hippodrome Circus is billed there for Monday."

"Where did you find that out?"

"I read it in a St. Catharines' paper down at the hotel this morning. I thought you would be interested in knowing of it."

"Interested? Why, boy, it will kill our business. So Sully is cutting in on us, is he? I thought he was playing the eastern circuit. He threatened to get even with me."

"Even?"

"Yes. Sully was once a partner in this show, but he proved himself so dishonest that I had to take legal measures to get him out. He got money from some source last season, and put a show of his own on the road. He has a twenty-five car show, I understand. Not such a small outfit at that. But I hear it is a graft show."

"What's a graft show? I must confess that I never heard of that before."

"A graft show, my boy, is a show that gets money in various ways.

They frequently carry a gang of thieves and confidence men with them, who work among the spectators on the grounds before the show, robbing them and getting a commission on their earnings."

"Is it possible that there are such dishonest people in the show business?" marveled the lad.

"Not only possible, but an actual fact. I am happy to say, however, that there are few shows that will tolerate anything of that sort."

"I'm glad I did not have the misfortune to get with one of them,"

smiled Phil. "Are any of the big shows graft shows?"

"None of them. But about this heading us off?"

"Yes; what will you do about it?"

"We'll be there on Monday, too," decided the showman after a moment's reflection.

"On Monday?"

"Yes."

"Then--then you intend to skip a date somewhere?"

"We shall have to."

Mr. Sparling was a man of resource and quick action. He made up his mind in a minute as to what course to follow.

"I'm going to detach you from the show for a few days, if you don't mind, Phil," decided Mr. Sparling.

"I am glad to serve you in any way that you think I can,"

answered the lad with a flash of surprise in his glance.

"I know that. What I want you to do is to join that show right away."

"Join them?"

"I do not mean that exactly. I want you to go to the town where they are playing tomorrow, I will get the name of the town before the day is over. Follow the show right along from town to town until next Monday, paying your way when you go in and keeping your eyes open for their game. You, with your shrewdness, ought to have no difficulty in getting sufficient evidence to help me carry out my plans."

"What sort of evidence do you wish me to get?"

"Make a mental note of everything you see that is not regular, and if they have a route card get a copy of that. It's perfectly regular, young man," hastened the showman, noting Phil's look of disapproval. "You are not doing anything improper. I do not ask you to pry into their private affairs. We have a right, however, to find out if we can, what their plans are with relation to ourselves. If they are playing Corinto the day before we do, just by mere chance, then I shall make no further objections, but if they are planning to move along ahead of us and kill our business--well, that's a different matter."

"I see," nodded Phil. "Who will take my place in the ring work here?"

"We will get along without it, that's all. It doesn't matter so much in these small towns. I don't care if you do not join out until we get to Niagara Falls. We'll be playing in the real country then."

"And working south?"

"Yes. As soon as the weather gets cooler we will head for the south and stay there until the close of the season. They are going to have a big cotton crop in the south this fall, and there will be lots of money lying around loose to be picked up by a show like ours."

"When do you want me to start?" asked Phil.

"Just as soon as I can get an answer to a telegram that I'm going to send now. You will be off sometime this afternoon.

But perhaps you can go on in your acts--no, I guess you had better not. You'll be missed at night if you do."

"Yes; that's so."

"I shall have some further directions for you. So long, for the present."

Phil turned away thoughtfully. Shortly after the afternoon performance Mr. Sparling sent for Phil again, the lad having in the meantime packed a few necessary articles in his bag preparatory to the journey that lay before him.

"The other show will be at St. Catharines tomorrow.

Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir. What time can I get away?"