"
"Hello," muttered Phil under his breath. "Something surely is
going on here. One of the voices I have heard before, and the
other I seem to recognize. I believe that first fellow belongs
to the show. I am almost sure of it."
"You think the fellow suspects?"
"The tall one does. But he doesn't know whom be suspects."
"We have to take care."
"Yes."
"But we will get both before the end of the season."
"You bet we will. I have a plan that--"
"What is it?"
"It is this."
Phil had buried his head in the grass and compressed his body
into the smallest possible space that he might avoid discovery.
He could hear the two men breathe, and he reasoned that they
might hear him as well.
"You know the big net?"
"You mean the one over which the flying four perform?"
"Yes."
"What about it?"
"It can be fixed."
"How?"
"By weakening some of the strands on each side."
"That is good, but suppose someone noticed."
"Not if it is done right. I don't mean to do it all at once.
I'll doctor one or two strands every day until the net is so
weakened that it won't hold.
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