"Until what?" questioned Phil sharply.
"Until you tell me what I want to know."
"What is it that you wish to know?"
"Why were you sent to spy on my outfit?"
"Perhaps for the same reason that you keep a spy in his camp," retorted Phil, bending a keen gaze on the face of his jailer.
Sully's face went violently red. Without another word he grasped Phil roughly by the shoulder, jerked him from the table and hurried the lad down the corridor.
"Here, here, I haven't finished my breakfast yet," protested the boy.
"You have, but you don't know it. You will know in a minute."
With that the showman thrust Phil into the linen closet again and slammed the door.
"My, I wouldn't have a temper like yours if you were to make me a present of a six-pole circus!" called the Circus Boy.