The next morning Phil was up bright and early, very much refreshed after a good night’s rest between his blankets in the comfortable sleeping wagon. Teddy, however, declared that he didn’t like it. He said he preferred to sleep on a pile of canvas in the open air, even if he did get wet once in a while.
Later in the morning, after Mr. Sparling had had time to dispose of his usual rush of morning business, which consisted of hearing reports from his heads of departments, and giving his orders for the day, Phil sought out his employer in the little dog tent.
“I’m very sorry about the accident, Mr. Sparling,” greeted Phil.
“Yes; it ties up one act. It will be some days before I can get another team in to take it up, and here we are just beginning to play the big towns. I have been trying to figure out if there was not someone in the show who could double in that act and get away with it,” mused the showman. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fine. Is there no one you can think of who could fill the bill, Mr. Sparling?”
“No; that’s the rub. You know of anyone?”
“How about myself.”
“What?”
Mr. Sparling surveyed the lad in surprised inquiry.
“I think I can make a pretty fair showing on the rings. Of course, if Signor Navaro gets well and comes back, I shall be glad to give the act back to him. I know something about the flying rings.”