"Ho, ho, ho! I believe you would, at that."

"I certainly shall."

"Say, kid, don't it ever give you pain to be so awfully honest?"

"I'll confess that it does when I am doing business with a man like you."

"Oh! That one landed. That was a knockout," chuckled the showman, rising. "I'll be back after you with the rig pretty soon. We've got to fix up some togs for you to ride in, but I guess we can do that all right. I'll have to put you back in your cage in the meantime." It lacked an hour and a half of the time for the afternoon performance to begin when Sully called with his carriage for his new star. Phil was ready, as far as he was able to be, and really welcomed the opportunity to get out in the air again. But he was so stiff from the confinement in the narrow linen closet that he did not feel as if he should be able to ride at all.

The drive to the circus lot was without incident, and Phil embraced the opportunity to familiarize himself with the town and its surroundings as fully as was possible under the circ.u.mstances. He had tried to form some plan by which to make his escape, but had given it up and decided to trust to luck.

There was another reason for his having decided to ride in the Sully Hippodrome Show that day, and every day thereafter, providing he was not able to get away before leaving Corinto.

He hoped that Mr. Sparling might have sent someone on to find out what had become of him. This was sure to be done sooner or later, especially when the showman found that his letters were not being answered, but were being returned to him, as had been arranged for before Phil left his own show.

Reaching the lot they drove around to the paddock where Phil and his new employer entered the dressing tent. Even there the lad was given no chance to break away. It seemed to him that every person connected with the show had been set to watch him.

When he entered the dressing tent he was subjected to the curious gaze of the performers, most of whom understood that he was to ride that day in the place of the injured performer, but who knew nothing further about the matter.

Some difficulty was experienced in getting a pair of tights that would fit Phil, but after awhile this was arranged.

"You sit down here and wait now," directed Mr. Sully.

"No; I've got something else to do. Bring the horse out in the paddock and let me see what I have to ride," answered Phil.

While they were getting out the ring horse, the lad indulged in a series of bends and limbering exercises out in the paddock, working until the perspiration stood out in great beads.

This done Phil sprang up to the back of the ring horse, and while an attendant held the animal in a circle with a long leading strap, Phil rode the horse about the paddock a few times until he had become familiar with the motion and peculiarities of the animal.

"How is he in the ring, fast or slow?"

"Just steady. Been at it a long time," the attendant informed him. "He's steady. You can depend on him."

"Yes; he acts so. I'll look at the ring when I go in."

The owner of the show had been a keen observer of these preparations. He noted, too, Phil appeared entirely to have forgotten about his desire to escape.

"That kid acts to me as if he knew his business," he reflected.

"If he rides the way I think he can, I'm going to get him away from Sparling if I have to double the wages he's drawing now.

And money talks!"

The band began to play in the big top. Phil glanced at the showman.

"When do I go on?"

"Second number."

The lad nodded, and sat awaiting his turn to enter the arena. He did not have to ask when the moment had arrived.

The attendant started to lead the ring horse in and Phil quickly fell in behind, following them in.

Right behind the Circus Boy came Sully, the owner of the show, never taking his eyes off his captive for a moment. This amused the lad. He grinned broadly. It was a novel experience for him.

Soon the strains of music told him this was where he was to begin his act. The boy swung gracefully to the back of his mount.

Instantly he had leaped to his feet Sully clapped his hands together approvingly.

"That's the way to do it. You've got the other fellow skinned forty ways!" he cried.

"In some ways," replied Phil significantly. "Otherwise not."

The ring was in excellent shape, much to the boy's surprise, and the horse was the best he ever had ridden. In a few moments Phil began to feel very much at home and to enjoy himself thoroughly.

The ring attendants brought out strips of bright yellow cloth, which two clowns held across the ring for the Circus Boy to leap over as his horse pa.s.sed under. This did not bother him in the least, though he had never tried the act before. It was a relic of the old circus days that few shows had retained.

But Phil was on the point of balking when a clown came out with a handful of hoops covered with paper.

"You want me to jump through those things?" he questioned, during a brief intermission.

"Sure."

"Does the other man do that?"

"He does."

"Then I can do it, I guess."

"I reckon you can do anything on a horse that you happen to feel like," said the showman.

The band started up again and Phil sprang to his feet. A paper hoop was raised on the opposite side of the ring, the lad eyeing it hesitatingly.

"I'll go through it if I break my neck trying," he muttered, shutting his lips tightly together.

Smash!

The Circus Boy hurled himself through the tender paper, but the breaking paper stung his face like the crack of a whip lash, and Phil, instead of landing on his feet as he should have done, struck the back of his ring horse on all fours.

Sully growled angrily.

"You make a blunder like that again, and you'll be sorry for it,"

he bullied, shaking an angry fist at Phil, who turned a pair of surprised eyes on the showman.

"See here," retorted the lad with rising color, "I'm not in the habit of being talked to like that. If you don't like my riding I'll end the act right here. I'm not obliged to ride for you, you know."

"Go on, go on!" snapped the owner.

The next hoop Phil took as easily as if he had been doing that very same thing all through the season.

"Fine!" chuckled Sully. "He's a star performer, even if he does give me as good as I send."

Phil was hurling himself through a succession of hoops now.

Then all at once, to his surprise and disapproval, five hoops of fire flared up before him and on all sides of him.