That night Phil rode again, winning even greater applause than he had done at the afternoon performance. But a closer watch was kept over him, as Sully had imagined that the opportunities were greater for escape than in broad daylight. Phil had reasoned it out the same way, but he was in no hurry. He had done up his money in a little bag which he hung about his neck each time before going into the ring, so that it might not be stolen while he was performing, for, it will be remembered that the lad had no trunk in which to keep his valuables.
No chance to escape presented itself during the evening, however, and the lad was forced to return to his imprisonment again after the night performance.
"If you expect me to be in working order you should give me a decent place to sleep," he told Sully, while they were sitting at lunch in the private car that night.
Sully grinned and winked an eye.
"See anything green in my eye?"
"No. It's all red. I guess you see red most of the time."
"If you'll give me a promise, I'll let you sleep in a berth in this car tonight."
"What promise?" asked Phil, though he knew pretty well what the showman would demand.
"That you won't try to escape."
"I'll make no such promise."