CHAPTER XIV
AN UNEXPECTED HIT
"Another turn-away," decided a ticket taker, casting his eyesover the crowds that had gathered for the afternoon performance.
"I guess Mr. Sparling knows his business pretty well," musedPhil. "He knows how to catch the crowd. I wonder how many ofthem have come here to see me. How they would look and stare ifthey knew I was the kid that twisted the tiger's tail."
Phil's color rose.
It was something for a boy who had been a circus performer forless than two days to have his name heralded ahead of the show asone of the leading attractions.
But Phil Forrest had a level head. He did not delude himselfwith any extravagant idea of his own importance. He knew thatwhat he had done was purely the result of accident.
"I'll do something, someday, that will be worthwhile," he toldhimself.
Phil's act that afternoon was fully as successful as it had beenon the previous day back in his home town. Besides, he now hadmore confidence in himself. He felt that in a very short time hemight be able to keep his feet on the elephant's head without thesupport of Emperor's trunk. That would be an achievement.
On this particular afternoon he rode with as much confidence asif he had been doing it all the season.
"You'll make a performer," encouraged Kennedy. "You've got thepoise 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 thanEmperor hoists me," laughed Phil.
For the next two minutes the man and the boy were too busy withtheir act to continue their conversation. The audience wasenthusiastic, and they shouted out Phil Forrest's name severaltimes, which made him smile happily.
"What would you advise me to do, Mr. Kennedy?" he asked as theelephants started to leave the ring, amid the plaudits of thespectators.
"Ever try the rings?"
"Yes, but not so high up as those that Rod and his partnersperform on."
"Height doesn't make much difference. Get them to let the ringsdown so you can reach them, then each day raise them a littlehigher, if you find you can work on them."
"Thank you. Perhaps I'll try it this afternoon. I am anxious tobe a real performer. Anybody could do this. Though it's easy, Ithink I might work up this act of ours to make it rather funny."
It will be observed that Phil was rapidly falling into thevernacular of the showman.
"If you've got any ideas we'll thresh them out. Emperor will bewilling. 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 steppedbehind the elephants and sat down on a pile of straw against theside walls of the menagerie tent.
Phil confided at length what he had in mind, Kennedy nodding fromtime to time as Phil made points that met with the trainer'sapproval.
"Boy, you've got a head on you a yard wide. You'll make youreverlasting fortune. Why, I'd never even thought of thatbefore."
"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 itis. We'll give them a surprise. Let's go see the property manand the carpenter. We'll find out what they can do for us."
Slipping out under the canvas, the two hurried back to theproperty room, an enclosure where all the costumes were kept,together with the armor used in the grand entry, and the othertrappings employed in the show, known as properties.
Mr. Kennedy explained to the property man what was wanted. Thelatter called in the carpenter. After consulting for a fewminutes, they decided that they could give the elephant trainerand his assistant what they sought.
"When will you have it ready?"
"Maybe in time for tonight's performance, but I can't promise forsure."
"Thank you," exclaimed Phil, hurrying away to consult with Mr.Sparling.
"I have been thinking out a plan to work up my part of theelephant 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 surpriseyou."
Mr. Sparling shook his head doubtfully.
"I'm afraid you haven't had experience enough to warrant mytrusting so important a matter to you," answered the showman,knowing how serious a bungled act might be, and how it would belikely to weaken the whole show.
Phil's face showed his disappointment.
"Mr. Kennedy says it will be a fine act. I have seen theproperty 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 solittle. "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 youmight give orders to my property man and my carpenter, sir?" theproprietor demanded, somewhat sternly.
"I took that upon myself, sir. I'm sure it would improve theact, even though I have not had as much experience as I mighthave. 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 someof the other acts.
About that time Mr. Sparling found it convenient to make a tripback to the property man's room, where he had quite a long talkwith that functionary. The proprietor came away smiling andnodding.
About an hour later Phil sauntered out and passed in front of Mr.Sparling's tent, hoping the showman would see him and call himin.
Phil was not disappointed. Mr. Sparling did that very thing.
"How's that new act of yours coming along, young man?" hedemanded.
"I have done no more than think it over since talking with you alittle while ago. If the props are ready Mr. Kennedy and I willhave a quiet rehearsal this afternoon. That is, if we can shooeverybody out of the tent and you are willing we should try it.How about it, sir?"
"I must say you are a most persistent young man."
"Yes, sir."
"And what if this act falls down flat? What then?"
"It mustn't."
"But if it does?"
"Then, sir, I'll give up the show business and go back toEdmeston, where I'll hire out to work on a farm. If I can't do alittle thing like this I guess the farm will be the best placefor me."
Phil was solemn and he meant every word he said. Mr. Sparling,however, unable to maintain his serious expression, laughedheartily.
"My boy, you are all right. Go ahead and work up your act. Youhave my full permission to do that in your own way, acting, ofcourse, under the approval of Mr. Kennedy. He knows what wouldgo with his bulls."
"Thank you, thank you very much," exclaimed Phil, impulsively. "Ihope you will be pleasantly surprised."
"I expect to be."
Phil ran as fast as his legs would carry him to convey the goodnews to Mr. Kennedy. Active preparations followed, together withseveral hurried trips to the property room. The property man wasgetting along famously with his part of the plan, and both Philand Mr. Kennedy approved of what had been done thus far.
According to programme, after the afternoon show had beenfinished and all the performers had gone to the cook tent therehearsal took place in the menagerie tent. Faithful to hispromise, Mr. Sparling kept away, but a pair of eyes representinghim was peering through a pin-hole in the canvas stretched acrossthe main opening where the ticket takers stood when at work.
"That's great, kid! Great, you bet!" shouted Mr. Kennedy
after asuccessful trial of their new apparatus.
With light heart, an expansive grin overspreading hiscountenance, the lad ran to the cook tent for his supper. Hecame near missing it as it was, for the cook was about to closethe tent. Mr. Sparling, who was standing near the exit, nodded tothe chief steward to give Phil and Mr. Kennedy their suppers.
"Well, did the rehearsal fall down?" he asked, with a quizzicalsmile on his face.
"It fell down, but not in the way you think," laughed Philhappily.
No further questions were asked of him.
That night, when the grand entry opened the show to a packedhouse, a shout of laughter from the great assemblage greeted theentrance of old Emperor. Emperor was clad in a calico gown ofancient style, with a market basket tucked in the curl of histrunk. But the most humorous part of the long-sufferingelephant's makeup was his head gear.
There, perched jauntily to one side was the most wonderful bonnetthat any of the vast audience ever had gazed upon. It was tiedwith bright red ribbons under Emperor's chops with a collectionof vari-colored, bobbing roses protruding from its top.Altogether it was a very wonderful piece of head gear.
The further the act proceeded the more the humor of Emperor'smakeup appeared to impress the audience. They laughed andlaughed until the tears ran down their cheeks, while the elephanthimself, appearing to share in the humor of the hour, neverbefore had indulged in so many funny antics.
Mr. Kennedy, familiar with side-splitting exhibitions, forgothimself so far as actually to laugh out loud.
But where was Phil Forrest? Thus far everybody had been too muchinterested in the old lady with the trunk and the market basketto give a thought to the missing boy, though some of theperformers found themselves wondering if he had closed with theshow already.
Those of the performers not otherwise engaged at the moment wereassembled inside the big top at one side of the bandstand, fairlyholding their sides with laughter over old Emperor's exhibition.
Standing back in the shadow of the seats, where the rays from thegasoline lamps did not reach, stood Mr. Sparling, a pleased smileon his face, his eyes twinkling with merriment. It was a goodact that could draw from James Sparling these signs of approval.
The act was nearing its close.
The audience thought they had seen the best of it. But there wasstill a surprise to come--a surprise that they did not even dreamof.
The time was at hand for the elephants to rear in a grand finale.An attendant quietly led Jupiter from the ring and to hisquarters, Emperor making a circuit of the sawdust arena to coverthe going of the other elephant and that there might be nocessation of action in the exhibition.
Emperor and his trainer finally halted, standing facing thereserved seats, as motionless as statues.
The audience sat silent and expectant. They felt that somethingstill was before them, but what they had not the least idea, ofcourse.
"Up, Emperor!" commanded Mr. Kennedy in a quiet voice. "Allready, Phil."
The elephant reared slowly on its hind legs, going higher andhigher, as it did in its regular performance.
As he went up, the bonnet on Emperor's head was seen to take onsudden life. The old calico gown fell away from the huge beastat the same time, leaving him clothed in a brilliant blanket ofwhite and gold.
But a long drawn "a-h-h-h," rippled over the packed seats as theold elephant's bonnet suddenly collapsed.
Out of the ruins rose a slender, supple figure, topping thepyramid of elephant flesh in a graceful poise. The figure, cladin red silk tights, appeared to be that of a beautiful girl.
The audience broke out into a thunder of approval, their feetdrumming on the board seats sounding not unlike the rattle ofmusketry.
The girl's hand was passed around to the back of her waist, whereit lingered for an instant, then both hands were thrown forwardjust as a diver does before taking the plunge.
"Ready?"
"Yes."
"Fly!"
The young girl floated out and off from the elephant's back,landing gently on her feet just outside the sawdust ring.
Emperor, at this juncture, threw himself forward on his forelegs,stretched out his trunk, encircling the performer's waist andlifting her clear off the ground.
At that moment the supposed young woman stripped her blonde wigfrom her head, revealing the fact that the supposed girl was nogirl at all. It was a boy, and that boy was Phil Forrest.
Emperor, holding his young friend at full length ahead of him,started rapidly for his quarters, Phil lying half on his side,appearing to be floating on the air, save for the black trunkthat held him securely in its grip.
At this the audience fairly howled in its surprise and delight,but Phil never varied his pose by a hair's breadth until Emperorfinally set him down, flushed and triumphant, in the menagerietent.
At that moment Phil became conscious of a figure running towardhim.
He discovered at once that it was Mr. Sparling.
Grasping both the lad's hands, the showman wrung them until itseemed to Phil as if his arms would be wrenched from theirsockets.
"Great, great, great!" cried the owner of the show.
"Did you like it?" questioned the blushing Phil.
"Like it? Like it? Boy, it's the greatest act I ever saw. It'sa winner. Come back with me."
"What, into the ring?"
"Yes."
"But what shall I do?"
"You don't have to do anything. You've done it already. Showyourself, that's all. Hurry! Don't you hear them howling like aband of Comanche Indians?"
"Y-yes."
"They want you."
By this time Mr. Sparling was fairly dragging Phil along withhim. As they entered the big top the cheering broke out afresh.
Phil was more disturbed than ever before in his life. It seemedas though his legs would collapse under him.
"Buck up! Buck up!" snapped the showman. "You are not going toget an attack of stage fright at this late hour, are you?"
That was exactly what was the matter with Phil Forrest. He wasnearly scared out of his wits, but he did not realize the natureof his affliction.
"Bow and kiss your hand to them," admonished the showman.
Phil did so, but his face refused to smile. He couldn't havesmiled at that moment to save his life.
All at once he wrenched himself loose from Mr. Sparling's grip,and ran full speed for the dressing tent. He had not gone morethan a dozen feet before he tripped over a rope, landing on headand shoulders. But Phil was up like a rubber man and off againas if every animal in the menagerie was pursuing him.
The spectators catching the meaning of his flight, stood up intheir seats and howled lustily.
Phil Forrest had made a hit that comes to few men in the sawdustarena.
The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings; Or, Making the Start in the Sawdust Life Page 15
