"Follow them?No.We're going to lead them.They'll follow us." "You're like a wildcat train then?""Something of the sort." "Where's the boss?""There he comes now.I'll have to hustle the men, or he'll scorch the grass off the lot with his roars."The foreman hastened to stir up his surveyors and Phil moved off that he might get a better look at Mr.Sully, the owner of the show.Phil found him to be a florid-faced, square jawed man whose expression was as repulsive as it was brutal.Sully wore a red vest and red necktie with a large diamond in it.He gave the Circus Boy a quick sharp look as he passed."I'll bet he will know me the next time he sees me," muttered Phil."But whether he does or not I have made some discoveries that Mr.Sparling will be glad to know about, though they will not make him particularly happy, I'm thinking."Phil was hungry, and he was anxious to get back to the village to write a letter, but decided that he would wait until the tents were up.Then again, he wanted to see the wagons brought on so he could count them and get a fair inventory of the show and what it possessed.He soon discovered that the Sully Hippodrome Circus was no one-horse affair, though considerably smaller than the one with which he was connected.
Not until the people were getting ready for the parade did Phil leave the lot.Then he hastened downtown and got his dinner and breakfast all in one, after which he sat down to write a full account of what he had learned to Mr.Sparling.
"There, if anything happens to me he is pretty well informed so far.It's enough to enable him to lay those plans he has in mind, whatever they may be.I can see him hammering his desk and getting red in the face when he reads this letter."Phil was cautious enough not to mention the name of the Sully show in his letter, and tried to couch it in such terms, that while Mr.Sparling would understand perfectly, another might not.
Phil took the letter to the post office, then went out on the sidewalk where he stood leaning against a lamp post to watch the parade, which he did with critical eyes.
"A pretty good-sized show," he mused."But all their trappings are second hand.They have bought them up from some show that has discarded them.That's one thing the Sparling outfit never does.All their stuff is new nearly every season.Sully may have some of our old trappings, for all I know."The parade was a long one; there were a good many cages, besides a fair-sized herd of elephants.
"Hm-m-m! Three tuskers among the bulls," muttered Phil."Pretty well up to our herd, but I wouldn't trade Emperor for any two of them, at that."After the parade had passed, Phil once more strolled over to the circus lot and hung about until time for the afternoon performance to begin, when he bought a ticket and entered, occupying a reserved seat where he could see all that was going on.
The lad smiled at the thought of how his position had changed.He was so used to being over there in the ring that it did not seem quite right for him to be occupying a chair in the audience.He could scarcely resist the impulse to hurry back to the dressing tent and prepare for the ring.
The grand entry came on; then his attention was centered on the performance, which he watched with the keen eyes of an expert, noting the work of every performer, completely forgetting the cheering audience in his absorption.
It was really a fair performance.He was forced to admit this, especially of the aerial acts.But the bareback riding he did not think compared favorably with his own, especially so far as the men riders were concerned.One woman rider was very good, indeed.
Phil drew a long breath when the performance had come to an end.A circus performance, to him, was a matter of the keenest interest.The fact that he himself was a circus performer did not lessen that interest one whit, but rather intensified it.Yet the glamour of his youthful days had passed.It was now a professional interest, rather than the wondering interest of a boy who never had seen the inside of the dressing tent.
Phil did not hang about the grounds.He went downtown, but was once more on hand for the evening performance, where he noted that the show was cut short fully half an hour, and this without apparent good reason.
He had made the acquaintance of a "candy butcher" during the hour before the show, and from him had learned some further details that were of interest to him and his investigation.
The Circus Boy, after watching the striking of the tents, returned to the railroad station and took a late train for the town where the circus was to show next day.It was not a long run, so he took a day coach.In it he saw several familiar faces--faces that he had noticed about the circus lot that afternoon, and from their appearance he was forced to conclude that these men belonged to the shows.
"Those fellows are crooks, as sure as I am alive," decided the lad, after listening to the conversation of the couple just ahead of him."That's what Mr.Sparling told me.I could hardly believe it.I'll spend part of the time outside tomorrow and make sure.I shall know those fellows when I see them, if they are on the grounds."It had not occurred to Phil Forrest that he might be recognized also, though he knew full well that circus people had keen eyes, especially in an outfit such as this.
The next morning he hunted up his friend the candy butcher, inviting that worthy to take breakfast with him which the lad, a boy about his own age, was glad to do.From the "butcher" Phil learned a whole lot of things that added to his store of knowledge, among them being the fact that Sully's outfit was even worse than it had been painted.
Mingling with the crowds about the main entrance, before the doors were opened that afternoon, Phil once more saw the same men he had observed on the train the previous evening.From their actions he was more than ever satisfied that he had not been mistaken in his estimate of them.
"I shouldn't be surprised if they were looking for some pockets to pick," mused the lad, "but I do not see them doing anything yet."As a matter of fact, the men were plying their trade, but his eyes had not been quick enough to catch them at it.Phil, however, was more successful just before the evening show.
Standing among the people massed out in front he saw a man's hand steal slowly toward the handbag of a well-dressed woman.Phil traced the hand back until he made out the owner, who was one of the same men that had come through on the train with him.
A gasoline torch lighted the operation faintly, and Phil gazed withfascinated eyes while the stealthy hand opened the bag quickly extracting its contents.
Almost at the instant the woman looked down, perhaps attracted by the tug at the bag.
"I've been robbed!" she cried.
The words stirred Phil to instant action.
In another second the thief felt a vise-like grip about the wrist that held the plunder.
"Here's the man that did it, madam.Call an officer," said Phil calmly.
