"What's the matter? Have you gone crazy?" questioned Phil,
laughing in spite of himself. "Come on, now; don't lose
your temper. If you will stop to consider, you will recall
that I have said nothing at which you might possibly
take offence."
To this the clown made no reply.
All at once he straightened up with a snarl that reminded Phil of
the cough of the tiger out in the menagerie as the beast struck
viciously at its keeper when the latter chanced to step too close
to the bars of the cage.
Diaz stood all a-quiver.
"This looks like trouble of some sort," muttered Phil Forrest.
"But I don't quite understand what he could have been hunting for
in the trunk."
Phil's question was answered a few seconds later.
>From the folds of the clown's costume his hand suddenly
shot upward. The hand held a knife. The hand shook from
rage as the knife was brandished aloft.
"Hello, so that's the game, is it?"
The Circus Boy stood his ground unflinchingly. He did not appear
to be disturbed in the least, though his situation at that moment
was a critical one.
Pages:
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122