A DASH FOR FREEDOM
"Well, you are a star rider, anyway," announced Sully, with emphasis when he was once more leading Phil to the carriage to take him back to the linen closet on board the private car.
But Sully was less violent, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that Phil did not fail to catch.
"He's planning something," thought the boy, after being once more locked in his compartment."I shouldn't be surprised if I had ridden a little too well today.But it's going to be the means of getting me my freedom.Someone surely will see me and recognize me."That night Phil rode again, winning even greater applause than he had done at the afternoon performance.But a closer watch was kept over him, as Sully had imagined that the opportunities were greater for escape than in broad daylight.Phil had reasoned it out the same way, but he was in no hurry.He had done up his money in a little bag which he hung about his neck each time before going into the ring, so that it might not be stolen while he was performing, for, it will be remembered that the lad had no trunk in which to keep his valuables.
No chance to escape presented itself during the evening, however, and the lad was forced to return to his imprisonment again after the night performance.
"If you expect me to be in working order you should give me a decent place to sleep," he told Sully, while they were sitting at lunch in the private car that night.
Sully grinned and winked an eye."See anything green in my eye?""No.It's all red.I guess you see red most of the time.""If you'll give me a promise, I'll let you sleep in a berth in this car tonight.""What promise?" asked Phil, though he knew pretty well what the showman would demand.
"That you won't try to escape."
"I'll make no such promise."
"Then it's the linen closet for your."
"All right; I will sleep in the linen closet.I suppose you will want me to ride again tomorrow?""Sure thing!"
"Then don't forget the twenty-five dollars in advance.""Say, that's more money than I'll pay for that act, good as it is," protested the showman.
"Very well; then I will stay in the closet and you can cut your bareback out.You do not have to pay it unless you want to."Sully growled and handed out the money.
Phil put it in his pocket with a smile and half audible chuckle that did not tend to make Sully feel any the less irritable.
"Perhaps it is a good thing that I am a prisoner if I have got to stay with this outfit.""Why?" snapped the showman.
"Because some of your light-fingered gentlemen would be dipping into my pocket, when I wasn't looking, and take the money away from me.That's the way you would get it back.""That will be about all for you, boy," growled the showman."That is, unless you are willing to tell me what you are here for?"The Circus Boy laughed lightly.
"I have nothing new to say to that question.""You've done your part well.You must have got busy pretty quick to have tipped off Sparling before we caught you.""Tipped him off to what?" inquired Phil.
"Well, never mind what.You know and so do I."After that the lad was sent to his closet to spend the night.The next day was a repetition of the previous one, except that Phil rode better than ever, if that were possible.But as he was riding under the name of the performer who had been injured, he could not make himself known.
Saturday came along, with the lad apparently as far from making his escape as ever.But what he had hoped would come to pass had done so in a measure.That is, the owner of the show had become a little carelessin watching the boy.
Instead of accompanying Phil into the ring, Sully satisfied himself with standing by the entrance to the paddock, next to the bandstand.
This left Phil free to do pretty much as he chose, but he was almost as closely confined as if he were in the owner's private car, so far as getting away was concerned.But the boy's mind was working actively.
