WHEN THE CRASH CAME
There was rejoicing on the part of his fellows, and relief in the heart of Mr.Sparling when, along toward noon next day, Phil Forrest came strolling on the circus lot at St.Joseph.
His friends, the farmers, had not only given him food and lodging, but had advanced him enough money for his fare through to join the show.His first duty was to get some money from Mr.Sparling and send it back to his benefactors.
This done, Phil repaired to the owner's tent where he knew Mr.Sparling was anxiously waiting to hear what had happened to him.
Phil went over the circumstances in detail, while Mr.Sparling listened gravely at first, then with rising color as his anger increased.
"It's Red Larry!" decided Mr.Sparling, with an emphasizing blow of his fist on the desk before him.
"After I thought the matter over that was what I decided--I mean that was the decision I came to.""Right.Another season I'll have an officer with this show.That's the only way we can protect ourselves.""Do all the big shows carry an officer?" asked Phil.
"Yes; they have a detective with them--not a tin badge detective, but a real one.Don't try to go out today.Get your dinner and rest up for the afternoon performance.I think you had better go to the train in my carriage tonight.I'm not going to take any more such chances with you." "I'll look out for myself after this, Mr.Sparling," laughed Phil."I thinkit was only two days ago that I said I wasn't afraid of Larry--that he couldn't get me.But he did."That afternoon, as Phil related his experiences to the dressing tent, he included the barnyard circus, which set the performers in a roar.
Phil felt a little sore and stiff after his knockout and his long ride in the freight car; but, after taking half an hour of bending exercises in the paddock, he felt himself fit to go on with his ring and bareback acts.
Both his acts passed off successfully, as did the Grand Entry in which he rode old Emperor.
That night, after the performance, Phil hurried to the train, but kept a weather eye out that he might not be assaulted again.He found himself hungry, and, repairing to the accommodation car for a lunch, discovered Teddy stowing away food at a great rate.
"So you're here, are you?" laughed Phil.
"Yep; I live here most of the time," grinned Teddy."They like to have me eat here.I'm a sort of nest egg, you know.It makes the others hungry to see me eat, and they file in in a perfect procession.How's your head?""Still a size too large," answered Phil, sinking down on a stool and ordering a sandwich.
As the lads ate and talked two or three other performers came in, whereupon the conversation became more general.
All at once there came a bang as a switching engine bumped into the rear of their car.Teddy about to pass a cup of steaming coffee to his lips, spilled most of it down his neck.
"Ouch!" he yelled, springing up, dancing about the floor, holding his clothes as far from his body as possible."Here, you quit that!" he yelled, poking his head out of a window."If you do that again I'll trim you with a pitcher of coffee and see how you like that."Bang!
Once more the engine smashed into them, having failed to make the coupling the first time.
Teddy sat down heavily in the middle of the car, just as Little Dimples tripped in.In one hand he held a sandwich half consumed, while with the other he was still stretching his collar as far from his neck as it would go.
"Why, Teddy," exclaimed Dimples, "what are you doing on the floor?" "Eating my lunch.Always eat it sitting on the floor, you know,"growled the boy, at which there was a roar from the others."What are they trying to do out there?" questioned Phil.
"Going to shift us about on another track, I guess.I was nearlythrown down when I tried to get on the platform.I never saw a road where they were so rough.Did you?""Yes; I rode on one the other night that could beat this," grinned Phil.
A few minutes later the car got under motion, pushed by a switching engine, and began banging along merrily over switches, tearing through the yard at high speed.
"We seem to be in a hurry 'bout something," grunted Teddy."Maybe they've hooked us on the wrong train, and we're bound for somewhere else.""No, I don't think so," replied Phil."You should be used to this sort of thing by this time.""I don't care as long as the food holds out.It doesn't make any difference where they take us.""What section does this car go out on tonight, steward?" questioned Phil.
"The last.Goes out with the sleepers."
"That explains it.They are shifting us around, making up the last section and to get us out of the way of section No.2.I never can keep these trains straight in my mind, they change them so frequently.But it's better than riding in a canvas wagon over a rough country road, isn't it, Teddy?""Worse," grunted the lad."You never know when you're going to get your everlasting bump, and you don't have any net to fall in when you do.Hey, they're at it again!"His words were almost prophetic.
There followed a sudden jolt, a deafening crash, accompanied by cries from the cooks and waiters at the far end of the car.
"Get a net!" howled Teddy.
"We're off the rails," cried the performers."Look out for yourselves!"Little Dimples was hurled from her stool at the lunch counter, and launched straight toward a window from which the glass was showering into the car.
Phil made a spring, catching her in his arms.But the impact and thejolt were too much for him.He went down in a heap, Little Dimples falling half over him.
He made a desperate grab for her, but the woman's skirts slipped through his hand and she plunged on toward the far end of the car.
"Look out for the coffee boiler."
A yell from a waiter told them that the warning had come too late.The man had gotten a large part of the contents of the boiler over him.
