The Circus Boys in Dixie Land Part 40

Phil understood, then, exactly what his position was, and, with a slight upward tilt of his head, brought his body into position so that he would strike the net on his shoulders.

He hit the net with a smack, bounded high into the air, rounding off his accident by throwing a somersault on the net, bounding up and down a few times on his feet.

The audience, quick to appreciate what he had done, gave Phil a rousing cheer.

He shook his head and began clambering up the rope again.

"What happened to me?" he called across to the catcher.

"You turned too quickly."

"I'll do it right this time."

The band stopped playing, that its silence might emphasize the act. Then Phil, measuring his distance with keen eyes, launched into the air again. But instead of turning one somersault he turned two, landing fairly into the outstretched arms of Mr. Prentice, who gave him a mighty swing, whereat Phil hurled himself into a mad whirl, performing three more somersaults before he struck the net.

The audience howled with delight, and Mr. Sparling rushed forward fairly hugging the Circus Boy in his delight.

"Wonderful!" cried the showman. "You're a sure-enough star this time."

CHAPTER XXII

IN A LIVELY BLOW-DOWN

>From that moment on, until the close of the season, Phil Forrest retained his place on the aerial trapeze team, doubling up with his other work, and putting the finishing touches to what Mr. Sparling called "a great career on the bars."

But Phil, much as he loved the work, did not propose to spend all his life performing above the heads of the people. He felt that a greater future was before him on the ground at the front of the house.

Only a week remained now before the show would close for the season. Even in Texas, where they were showing, the nights had begun to grow chilly, stiffening the muscles of the performers and making them irritable. All were looking forward to the day when the tents should be struck for the last time that season.

"What's the next stand?" asked Phil in the dressing tent a few nights after his triumphal performance on the trapeze.

"Tucker, Texas," answered a voice.

"What's that?" shouted a clown.

"Tucker, I said."

"Any relation to Teddy Tucker?"

"I hope not," laughed the head clown.

"A place with that name spells trouble. Anything by the name of Tucker, whether it's Teddy or not, means that we are in for some kind of a mix-up. I wish I could go fishing tomorrow."

All in the dressing tent chuckled at the clown's sally.

"I know what you'd catch if you did," grumbled Teddy.

"Now, what would I catch, young man?" demanded the clown.

"You'd catch cold. That's all you can catch," retorted Teddy, whereat the laugh was turned on the clown, much to the latter's disgust.

Tucker proved to be a pretty little town on the open plain.

There was nothing in the appearance of the place to indicate that they might look for trouble. However, as the clown had prophesied, trouble was awaiting them--trouble of a nature that the showman dreads from the beginning to the end of the circus season.

The afternoon performance pa.s.sed off without a hitch, the tent being crowded almost to its capacity, Phil Forrest throwing himself into his work in the air with more spirit and enthusiasm than he had shown at any time since he took up his new work.

At Mr. Sparling's request, however, the lad had omitted his triple somersault from the trapeze bar. The showman considered the act too dangerous, a.s.suring Phil that sooner or later he would be sure to break his neck.

Phil laughed at the owner's fears, but promised that he would try nothing beyond a double after that. He remembered how quickly he had lost himself when he attempted the feat before. Few men are able to do it without their brains becoming so confused that they lose all sense of direction and location.

The evening house was almost as large as that of the afternoon, as usual the audience being made up princ.i.p.ally of town people, the country spectators having returned to their homes before night. The night set in dark and oppressive.

Soon after the gasoline lights were lighted the animals began growling, pacing their cages restlessly, while the lions roared intermittently, and the hyenas laughed almost hysterically.

It sent a shiver down the backs of nearly everyone who heard it-- the shrill laugh of the hyenas reaching clear back to the dressing tent.

Teddy Tucker's eyes always grew large when he heard the laugh of the hyena.

"B-r-r-r!" exclaimed Teddy.

"You'll 'b-r-r-r' worse than that before you get through,"

growled a performer.

"Why?"

" 'Cause it means what somebody said the other night--trouble."

"What kind of trouble does it mean?" asked Phil.

"I don't know. Some kind of a storm, I guess. You can't always tell. Those animals know more than we human beings, when it comes to weather and that sort of thing," broke in Mr. Miaco the head clown.

"Well, you expected something would happen in a town called Tucker, didn't you?"

"Are you going to be with this show next season, Teddy?"

questioned the clown who had taunted him before.

"I hope to."

"Then I sign out with some other outfit. I refuse to travel with a bunch that carries a hoodoo like you with it. I feel it in my bones that something is going to happen tonight, and just as soon as I can get through my act I'm going to run--run, mind you, not walk--back to the train as fast as my legs will carry me.

That won't be any snail's pace, either."

The performers joked and pa.s.sed the time away until the band started the overture, off under the big top. This means that it is about time for the show to begin, and that the music is started to hurry the people to their seats.

All hands fell silent as they got busy putting the finishing touches to their makeup.

"All acts cut short five minutes tonight," sang the voice of the ringmaster at the entrance to the dressing tent.