"Sit still! Sit still!"
The whole mass of canvas collapsed and went rolling northward like a sail suddenly ripped from the yards of a ship.
The last mighty blow of the storm had been more than canvas and painted poles could stand.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE LION HUNT
For a moment there was silence. Then the people began shouting.
"Bring lights, men!" thundered the owner of the show.
Being so near the outer edges of the tent, the people had escaped almost without injury. Many had been bruised as the canvas swept over them, knocking them flat and some falling all the way through between the seats to the ground, where they were in little danger.
"Wait till the lights come! Phil! Phil!"
Phil Forrest did not answer. He had been knocked clear into the center of the arena by a falling quarter pole, and stunned. The Circus Boy's head was pretty hard, however, and no more than a minute had passed before he was at work digging his way out of the wreck.