"It's my opinion that somebody doctored him—gave him something—"
The showman uttered a long, low whistle.
"You've hit it! You've hit it!" he exclaimed, bringing a hand down on the lad's knee with such force that Phil winced. "It's one of those rascally canvasmen that I discharged. Oh, if ever I get my hands on him it will be a sorry day for him! You haven't seen him about, have you?"
"I thought I caught a glimpse of him on the street yesterday during the parade, but he disappeared so quickly that I could not be sure."
Mr. Sparling nodded reflectively.
"You probably heard how Emperor ducked him and—"
"Yes; you remember I came up just after the occurrence.
I'll tell you what I want you to do."
"Yes?"
"I'll release you from the parade for tomorrow, and perhaps longer, and I want you to spend your time moving around among the downtown crowds to see if you can spot him. If you succeed, well you will know what to do."
"Want me to act as a sort of detective?" grinned Phil.