Part 27 (1/2)
I know he appreciates it.”
Jim looked up pleadingly as Phil bent over him, patting the animal on his splendid old gray head.
The attendants went about their duties.
”How'd this happen, Phil?” questioned Teddy.
”I fell off; that's what happened.”
”Yes, I know you did, but there's more to it. I wonder if it's got anything to do with the loss of my egg?”
”I guess not.”
”You guess not? Well, I know something, Phil.”
”I should hope you do.”
”I mean about this accident.”
Phil gazed at his companion keenly.
”What do you know?”
”Look here,” said Teddy, pointing to a depression in the sawdust arena.
Phil bent over, examining the spot closely. When he rose, his lips were tightly compressed and his face was pale.
”Don't mention this to anyone, Teddy. Promise me?”
” 'Course I won't tell. Why should I? But I found out about it, didn't I?”
”Yes; at least you have made a pretty good start in that direction. I shall have to tell Mr. Sparling.
It would not be right to keep this information from him.”
”N-n-o-o. Then maybe he'll organize a posse to hunt for my egg.”
”Oh, hang your old egg!”
The Roman chariot races were on, the rattle of the wheels, the shouts of the drivers drowning the voices of the two boys.
”Teddy, you'll have to get back and change your clothes.
The performance is about over. That makes me think. I have on my ring clothes under this suit and I must hurry back to my bath and my change.”
The performance closed and the rattle and bang of tearing down the big white city had begun. The boys were engaged in packing their trunks now, as were most of their fellow performers.
”What's that?” demanded Teddy, straightening up suddenly.
”Somebody fired a shot,” answered another performer.