Previous to going on, Phil had
had a ring attendant go over the sawdust circle on his hands and
knees, making a careful examination of it, to be sure that the
ring had not been tampered with.
>From that time on until the act went on, the ring was watched,
though Phil did not believe the miscreant would attempt to lay
another trap for him so soon. Still, he took nothing
for granted.
That night after the performance, the air being warm and balmy,
the Circus Boy strolled out on the lot, sitting down on a little
knoll to think matters over. There was plenty of time, for the
boat would not leave for two or three hours, and Phil wanted to
be alone.
Lights were twinkling on the lot like fireflies. There was
shouting and singing, but little of this conveyed itself to Phil,
for his mind was on other things.
All at once he pricked up his ears. He caught the sound of
running footsteps.
"Someone is coming this way," he muttered. "I wonder what
that means? Surely none of the circus people would come here.
They would go around by the road."
The lad concealed himself behind the knoll, peering over the top
of it.
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