“What, into the ring?”
“Yes.”
“But what shall I do?”
“You don’t have to do anything. You’ve done it already. Show yourself, that’s all. Hurry! Don’t you hear them howling like a band of Comanche Indians?”
“Y-yes.”
“They want you.”
By this time Mr. Sparling was fairly dragging Phil along with him. As they entered the big top the cheering broke out afresh.
Phil was more disturbed than ever before in his life. It seemed as though his legs would collapse under him.
“Buck up! Buck up!” snapped the showman. “You are not going to get an attack of stage fright at this late hour, are you?”
That was exactly what was the matter with Phil Forrest. He was nearly scared out of his wits, but he did not realize the nature of his affliction.