Phil's words were cut short by a shriek of terror from the lighted house followed by another and another.

"He's there! Come on!"

Both boys vaulted the fence and ran to the front door. By this time shriek upon shriek rent the air. The lads burst into the house without an instant's hesitation.

"Upstairs!" cried Phil, bounding up three steps at a time.

A woman, pale and wide-eyed, had pointed that way when she saw the two boys in their circus tights and realized what they had come there for.

In a large room a dozen people, pale and frightened were standing, one man with hand on the door ready to slam it shut at first sign of the intruder.

"Where--where is he?" demanded Phil breathlessly.

"We were playing cards, and when somebody looked up he saw that beast standing in the door here looking in. He--he went down in the back yard. Maybe you will be able to see him if you go in the room across the hall there. There's a yard fenced off there for the dogs to run in."

Phil bounded across the hall followed by two of the men.

"Does that stairway lead down into the back yard?"

questioned Phil.

"Yes, yes."

"Was the door open?"

"Yes, yes."

"Is it open now?"

"Yes. We can feel the draft."

"Show me into the room and I'll take a look."

One of the men, who evidently lived in the house, stepped gingerly across the hall, turned the k.n.o.b and pushed the door in ever so little. Phil and Teddy, with torches still in hand, crowded in.

As they did so their guide uttering a frightened yell, slammed the door shut, and Phil heard a bolt shoot in place.

The boys found themselves in a large room running the full depth of the house. It had been rigged up, as a gymnasium, with the familiar flying rings, parallel bars and other useful equipment.

All this they saw instinctively. But what they saw beyond all this caused the Circus Boys to pause almost spellbound.

"He's in there! He's in there!" shouted half a dozen voices at the same moment. Then the lads heard the people rush down the stairs and out into the street shouting and screaming for help.

Crouching in the far corner of the room, lashing its tail, its evil eyes fixed upon them, was the lion Wallace.

"Wow!" breathed Teddy.

Phil with eyes fixed upon the lion reached back one hand and tried the door behind him. It was locked.

"Teddy, don't make any sudden moves," cautioned Phil in a low voice. "We're locked in. Give me your torch. Now edge over to that open window and drop out. We can't both try it, or Wallace will be upon us in a flash. When you get out, run for the lot. Run as you never ran before. Get the men here.

Have them rush Wallace's cage here. Be careful until you get out. Those people have locked us in. I shouldn't dare open the door anyway, now, for he'd catch us before we could get out.

I know the ways of these tricky cats."

"Phil, he'll kill you!"

"He won't. I've got the torches. They're the best weapons a man could have--they and the whip."

Teddy edged toward the window while Phil with a stern command to the lion to "charge!" at the same time cracking the whip and thrusting the torches toward the beast, checked the rush that Wallace seemed about to make.

Teddy dropped from the window a moment later. Then began an experience for Phil Forrest that few boys would have had the courage to face.

Not for an instant did the Circus Boy lose his presence of mind.

He took good care not to crowd Wallace, giving him plenty of room, constantly talking to him as he had frequently heard the animal's keeper do, and keeping the beast's mind occupied as much as he could.

Now and then Wallace would attempt to creep up on Phil, whereupon the lad would start forward thrusting the torches before him and crack the whip again. Wallace was afraid of fire, and under the menacing thrusts of the torches would back cowering into his corner.

For a full half hour did Phil Forrest face this deadly peril, cool, collected, his mind ever on the alert, standing there in his pink tights, almost a heroic figure as he poised in the light of the flaring torches, the smoke of which got into his lungs and made him cough. He did all he could to suppress this, for it disturbed and irritated Wallace, who showed his disapproval by swishing his tail and uttering low, deep growls of resentment.

Phil backed away a little so as to get nearer the window that he might find more fresh air. Wallace followed. Phil sprang at him.

"Charge!" he commanded making several violent thrusts with the torches, at which Wallace backed away again and crouched lower.

Phil saw that the lion was preparing to jump over his head; and, discovering this, the lad held one torch high above his head and kept it swaying there from side to side.

Suddenly he made another discovery.

The light seemed to be growing dim. A quick glance at the flames of the torches told him what the trouble was.

He dared not let his eyes dwell on the flame for more than a brief instant for the glare would so blind him that he would not be able to clearly make out the lion. To lose sight of Wallace for a few seconds might mean a sudden and quick end to Phil Forrest, and he knew it full well.

The lad backed a bit closer to the window, keeping his torches moving rapidly to hide his movements.

Wallace, watching the torches did not observe the action.

"The torches are going out," breathed Phil. "If the folks don't come soon I've got to jump through window gla.s.s and all or Wallace will spring."

Phil was in a desperate situation.

CHAPTER XXIV

CONCLUSION

"Down, Wallace! Charge!"

The Circus Boy's whip cracked viciously, while the dying torches formed thin circles of fire as they were swung above the lad's head.

"I shan't be able to hold him off much longer. Wallace knows, as well as I do, that his turn is coming in a short time. If I happen to be within reach then, something surely is going to happen. Hark! What's that?"

Distant shouts were borne faintly to Phil's ears. He listened intently, catching another and welcome sound. The latter was the rumble of a heavy wagon, being driven rapidly along the paved street of the town.