Then Teddy, solemn-faced, made his apology. To Phil Forrest's listening ears it was the most amazing apology he ever had listened to.

"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," said Teddy.

"What!" fairly exploded the clown.

"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," repeated the Circus Boy in a slightly louder tone. "Maybe I wouldn't have done so if I had had time to think about it."

"You make apology to me--to me?" questioned Diaz, tapping his own chest significantly.

"Yes; to whom did you think I was making an apology--to the hyena out under the menagerie top, eh?"

"Bah!"

"I am sorry I made a fool of you, Mr. Diaz."

"Me--fool?"

"Yes, I guess you are about right. You certainly look the part, and--"

Diaz sprang up with a growl of rage, Tucker giving ground a little as he observed the anger in the painted face before him.

Before the lad could raise his hands to protect himself Diaz had grasped Teddy and hurled him across the dressing tent, where he landed in a pail of water.

He was up in a twinkling. His face was flushed and his hands were clenched.

No sooner had he gotten to his feet than he observed that the clown had started for him again. Teddy squared off, prepared for fight. At that moment, however, there came an interruption that turned the attention of the enraged clown in another direction.

Phil Forrest quickly stepped between them facing Diaz.

"What are you going to do?" demanded the Circus Boy in a quiet voice.

"Do?"

"Yes."

"I punish the monkey-face--"

"You will, eh?" howled Teddy, starting forward.

Phil thrust his companion aside.

"Go away. I will see if I can explain to him," cautioned Phil, turning to the clown again, just as the latter was making a rush at Teddy.

"One moment, Mr. Diaz. My friend Teddy is not very diplomatic, but he means well. He apologized to you for what he had done, did he not?"

"Yes," growled the clown.

"Then why not call it square and--"

"I punish him. I fix him!" roared Diaz, making a leap for Teddy, who had managed to edge up nearer to them.

"You will do nothing of the sort," answered Phil Forrest firmly, again stepping between them.

An angry light glowed in the eyes of the clown. For an instant he glared into Phil's steady gray eyes, then all of a sudden launched a vicious blow at the boy.

The blow failed to reach the mark. Phil dodged and stepped back a couple of feet.

Another, as swift as the first was sent straight for his head.

This blow the Circus Boy skillfully parried, but made no effort to return.

"Mr. Diaz! Mr. Diaz!" warned Phil. "You forget yourself.

Please don't do anything you will be sorry for afterwards."

"I fix you!" snarled the clown.

"I don't want to hit you, sir, but you may force me to do so."

Phil had no time to warn the fellow further, for the clown began to rain blows upon him, though with no great exhibition of boxing skill. Phil could have landed effectively anywhere on the clown's body had he chosen to do so.

Instead, the boy slowly gave ground, defending himself cleverly.

Not one single blow from the powerful fist of Diaz reached him, Phil exhibiting the wonderful self-control that was characteristic of him. He even found opportunity to warn Teddy to get out of the tent until the tempest had blown over.

Teddy, however, stood with hands thrust in his trousers pockets, shoulders hunched forward, glaring at Diaz.

"Don't you get in this now," breathed Phil. "Keep away!

Keep away! I'll--"

At that moment Phil stumbled over a trunk, landing on his head and shoulders. Quick as he was he found himself unable to turn over and roll away soon enough to get beyond reach of the angry clown.

Diaz hurled himself upon the slender, though athletic figure of the Circus Boy, almost knocking the breath out of Phil.

No sooner had he done so than something else happened. A body launched itself through the air. The body belonged to Tucker.

Teddy landed with great force on the head and shoulders of the enraged clown, flattening the latter down upon Phil with crushing weight, and nearly knocking Forrest senseless.

CHAPTER II

JANUARY LENDS A FOOT

"Stop it!" roared a voice. "We don't allow 'roughhouse' in the dressing tent."

"Yes," added another; "go out on the lot if you want to settle your differences."

Mr. Miaco, the head clown, who had been a true friend to the boys from the beginning of their circus career, had discovered what was going on about the time Teddy decided to mix in in the disagreement. Mr. Miaco sprang up and ran to the struggling heap. Grasping Teddy firmly by the shoulder he tossed the lad aside.

"Now, you stay out of this, unless you want a thrashing from me,"

the head clown warned.