He chuckled as Sully uttered a grunt of anger and strode off to the other end of the car.

"He'll be going to the lot after a while, then I'll get busy,"

muttered Phil. In the meantime there was nothing for him to do but to sit down and make the best of his situation, which he did.

Once, during the morning, Phil, believing himself to be alone, made several desperate attempts to break the door down.

His efforts brought a threat from the corridor as to what would happen if he tried that again. Phil knew, then, that he was not to be left alone.

After a while the lad went to sleep, not awakening until late in the afternoon.

He got no supper that night, nor did the showman come near him until late on the following morning. Phil was ravenously hungry, not having had a thing to eat in twenty-four hours, but he had too much grit to utter a word of complaint.

An excellent breakfast was served, but instead of Mr. Sully one of his men sat at the table while another stood out in the corridor ready to take a hand in case the boy made an effort to escape.

Had there been an open window near him Phil would have tried a dive through it, taking the chance of getting away. The windows in the room where the breakfast was served had been prudently shut, however.

He had just finished his breakfast when Sully came storming in.

The lad could see that he was very angry about something.

"Good morning, sir. Aren't you feeling well this morning?"

questioned Phil innocently.

"Feeling--feeling--" The words seemed to choke in the showman's throat.

"Yes, feeling."

"Why--why--why didn't you tell me that Sparling had changed his date and was planning to make Corinto the same day we are billed there?" thundered Sully.

"Is he?"

"Is he? You know very well that he is, and it was your report that put him up to doing this trick. We've got you to thank for this piece of business, and you're going to pay dear for your part in it. Is he going to follow us all around the country--is that what he's planning to do?"

"I guess you had better ask Mr. Sparling himself. He hasn't seen fit to tell me, as yet."

"I'll show him that he can't trifle with me, and I'll show you, so you won't forget it for the rest of your circus career."

"I wouldn't make threats were I in your place, Mr. Sully.

Wait until you get over your mad fit; then you'll be glad you didn't say anything you might have to take back later on,"

advised Phil.

"Take back? Take back?"

"Yes."

For the moment the showman was too far overcome with emotion to speak. Then he uttered a roar and stamped out of the car.

"Say, when is he going to let me out of here?"

"Not till we get to the border," answered the attendant.

"When will that be?"

"I don't know for sure. I guess maybe a month."

"You don't mean he is going to keep me in that linen cupboard for a full month--you can't mean that?"

"Can't say about that. I guess that's it. If you're finished with your breakfast--"

"I have been finished for sometime."

"Then you'll have to git back to the coop again."

Phil reluctantly rose, but his keeper kept tight hold of him, and the man on guard out in the corridor walked ahead of the boy on down to the linen closet, where Phil was once more thrust in and the door closed on him.

He had not been there long before he heard Sully enter the car with one of his men. All at once their voices seemed to come to him clearly and distinctly. The lad did not remember to have heard voices there so plainly before.

This time Phil began looking about to see if there were not really an opening in his chamber. He found it at the top over one of the shelves, a small grill, over which a curtain had been stretched. Phil lost no time in climbing up to it.

He peered out and saw the men plainly. With Sully was his parade manager, and they were talking excitedly.

Phil opened his eyes wide when he began to realize the enormity of the plan that they were discussing.

CHAPTER XIII

THROUGH RINGS OF FIRE

"If there should happen to be a wind we might cut a rope or two and let the big top down on them," suggested parade manager.

"Yes; it would put them out of business for the night performance, but we don't want them to fill up for the afternoon show. That's when they are going to get the money.

You see, Sparling's show is bigger and better known than ours, and showing there the same day we are liable to get the worst of it. Can't you suggest anything else?"

"If you don't like letting the big top down on their heads, and providing there is no wind to make the attempt worthwhile, I would suggest another way."

"The scoundrels!" breathed the listener above their heads.

"What's your suggestion?"

"Stampede the elephants."

"That's a dandy! And we know how to do it, eh, Lawrence?"

The parade manager nodded emphatically.

"They'll never know what happened to them. We can do it before the show gets to the lot if you think best?"

Sully shook his head.

"No. We'll wait till just as the doors are about to open for the afternoon show. Mind you, I'm not saying we shall do it.