The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings Part 28

It was something for a boy who had been a circus performer for less than two days to have his name heralded ahead of the show as one of the leading attractions.

But Phil Forrest had a level head. He did not delude himself with any extravagant idea of his own importance. He knew that what he had done was purely the result of accident.

"I'll do something, someday, that will be worthwhile," he told himself.

Phil's act that afternoon was fully as successful as it had been on the previous day back in his home town. Besides, he now had more confidence in himself. He felt that in a very short time he might be able to keep his feet on the elephant's head without the support of Emperor's trunk. That would be an achievement.

On this particular afternoon he rode with as much confidence as if he had been doing it all the season.

"You'll make a performer," encouraged Kennedy. "You've got the poise and everything necessary to make you a good one."

"What kind, do you think?"

"Any old kind. Do you get dizzy when up in the air?"

"I don't remember that I have ever been up much further than Emperor hoists me," laughed Phil.

For the next two minutes the man and the boy were too busy with their act to continue their conversation. The audience was enthusiastic, and they shouted out Phil Forrest's name several times, which made him smile happily.

"What would you advise me to do, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked as the elephants started to leave the ring, amid the plaudits of the spectators.

"Ever try the rings?"

"Yes, but not so high up as those that Rod and his partners perform on."

"Height doesn't make much difference. Get them to let the rings down so you can reach them, then each day raise them a little higher, if you find you can work on them."

"Thank you. Perhaps I'll try it this afternoon. I am anxious to be a real performer. Anybody could do this. Though it's easy, I think I might work up this act of ours to make it rather funny."

It will be observed that Phil was rapidly falling into the vernacular of the showman.

"If you've got any ideas we'll thresh them out. Emperor will be willing. He'll say yes to anything you suggest. What is it?"

"Don't you think Mr. Sparling would object?"

"Not he. Wait till I get the bulls chained; then we'll talk."

After attending to his charges, Mr. Kennedy and Phil stepped behind the elephants and sat down on a pile of straw against the side walls of the menagerie tent.

Phil confided at length what he had in mind, Kennedy nodding from time to time as Phil made points that met with the trainer's approval.

"Boy, you've got a head on you a yard wide. You'll make your everlasting fortune. Why, I'd never even thought of that before."

"Don't you think I had better speak to Mr. Sparling?"

Kennedy reflected for a moment.

"Perhaps you had better do so. But you needn't tell him what it is. We'll give them a surprise. Let's go see the property man and the carpenter. We'll find out what they can do for us."

Slipping out under the canvas, the two hurried back to the property room, an enclosure where all the costumes were kept, together with the armor used in the grand entry, and the other trappings employed in the show, known as properties.

Mr. Kennedy explained to the property man what was wanted. The latter called in the carpenter. After consulting for a few minutes, they decided that they could give the elephant trainer and his a.s.sistant what they sought.

"When will you have it ready?"

"Maybe in time for tonight's performance, but I can't promise for sure."

"Thank you," exclaimed Phil, hurrying away to consult with Mr.

Sparling.

"I have been thinking out a plan to work up my part of the elephant act," announced Phil, much to the owner's surprise.

"You have, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is it?"

"I was in hopes you wouldn't ask me that. I wanted to surprise you."

Mr. Sparling shook his head doubtfully.

"I'm afraid you haven't had experience enough to warrant my trusting so important a matter to you," answered the showman, knowing how serious a bungled act might be, and how it would be likely to weaken the whole show.

Phil's face showed his disappointment.

"Mr. Kennedy says it will be a fine act. I have seen the property man and the carpenter, and they both think it's great.

They are getting my properties ready now."

"So, so?" wondered the owner, raising his eyebrows ever so little. "You seem to be making progress, young man. Let's see, how long have you been in the show business?" he reflected.

"Twenty-four hours," answered Phil promptly.

Mr. Sparling grinned.

"M-m-m-m. You're certainly getting on fast. Who told you you might give orders to my property man and my carpenter, sir?" the proprietor demanded, somewhat sternly.

"I took that upon myself, sir. I'm sure it would improve the act, even though I have not had as much experience as I might have. Will you let me try it?" demanded the boy boldly.

"I'll think about it. Yes, I'll think about it. H-m-m-m!

H-m-m-m!"

Thus encouraged, Phil left his employer, going in to watch some of the other acts.

About that time Mr. Sparling found it convenient to make a trip back to the property man's room, where he had quite a long talk with that functionary. The proprietor came away smiling and nodding.

About an hour later Phil sauntered out and pa.s.sed in front of Mr.

Sparling's tent, hoping the showman would see him and call him in.