Part 47 (1/2)
”Get back to your act!”
”I'm off. I'll see you later, Phil, then we will talk it over.”
”We will, Teddy,” and Teddy was off at top speed to take up his performance where he had so abruptly left it a few minutes before. The ringmaster had not missed him, though he saw at once that the boy was not on his station, when Teddy began to work again.
”Now, Phil, we will hear all about it. How in the name of the Sparling shows did you get into that uniform?”
”The captain of the river boat that picked me up fitted me out.”
”So you really fell in?”
”I got _in,_ right.”
”Tell me all about it.”
The Circus Boy related his experiences from the time he found himself in the river, until his arrival in Memphis that morning.
”Marvelous--almost unbelievable,” breathed Mr. Sparling as the tale was unfolded. ”I never heard anything to compare with it.”
When Phil told of his speech in the dining saloon of the river steamboat, Mr. Sparling leaned back with hands on his hips, laughing immoderately.
”Oh, Phil, you are the sort from which great showmen are made!”
Phil handed over the Memphis paper with the account of his experience, which the showman glanced over briefly.
”That will give us another turn-away in Memphis. You can't stop them, after that. They will come to the show even if they have to fight their way in. That was a great stroke of enterprise, but I would rather it had not happened, of course.”
”What--the interview?”
”No, of course not. I mean your accident.”
”It is all right, Mr. Sparling. I am here now, and none the worse for my bath, but for a time I surely thought I was a goner.
I would not care to go through that experience again.”
”I should say not. Yours was the most wonderful escape I ever heard of. I'll wager there was never anything like it before on this river.”
Mr. Sparling paused suddenly and bent a keen, searching glance on Phil Forrest's face. The lad felt that he knew what was in the mind of his employer.
”Phil?”
”Yes, sir.”
”You have not told me everything, yet.”
”What makes you think that, Mr. Sparling?”
”Because I know you so well. There is something on your mind that you have not told me. I want to know what it is.”
Phil's eyes were lowered to the green gra.s.s at his feet. For a moment he was silent and thoughtful.
”What is it you wish me to tell you, Mr. Sparling?” he asked in a low voice.
”You have not given me a satisfactory explanation of how you came to get into the river.”