"Turn!" shouted a voice from below, the watchful ringmaster having observed at once that the lad was falling, and that he was liable to strike on his head in the net with the possible chance of breaking his neck.
Phil understood, then, exactly what his position was, and, with a slight upward tilt of his head, brought his body into position so that he would strike the net on his shoulders.
He hit the net with a smack, bounded high into the air, rounding off his accident by throwing a somersault on the net, bounding up and down a few times on his feet.
The audience, quick to appreciate what he had done, gave Phil a rousing cheer.
He shook his head and began clambering up the rope again.
"What happened to me?" he called across to the catcher.
"You turned too quickly."
"I'll do it right this time."
The band stopped playing, that its silence might emphasize the act. Then Phil, measuring his distance with keen eyes, launched into the air again. But instead of turning one somersault he turned two, landing fairly into the outstretched arms of Mr. Prentice, who gave him a mighty swing, whereat Phil hurled himself into a mad whirl, performing three more somersaults before he struck the net.
The audience howled with delight, and Mr. Sparling rushed forward fairly hugging the Circus Boy in his delight.