“Fine! Fine! One of the best flying-ring acts I ever saw,” he shouted, when finally the lads rounded out their act by a series of rapid evolutions commonly known as “skinning the cat.” Even in this their act was attended with variations.
The boys concluded by a graceful drop into the net, from which they bounded into the air, swung themselves to the ground, each throwing a kiss to the grinning manager.
A number of performers who had been a witness to the performance clapped their hands and shouted “bravo!”
Mr. Sparling called the lads to him.
“The act is yours,” he said. “It is better than Navaro’s. Each of you will draw twenty five dollars a week for the rest of the season,” he announced to the proud circus boys, who thereupon ran to the dressing tent to take a quick bath and get into their costumes ready for the parade.
“See to it that they have the net spread, Mr. Ducro,” he directed. “Never permit them to perform without it.”
That afternoon the boys made their first appearance in the flying-ring exhibition, and their act really proved a sensation. Mr. Sparling, who was observing it from the side, kept his head bobbing with nods of approval and muttered comments.
After the show Phil suggested that thereafter Teddy be allowed to use a clown makeup, because his funny antics in the air were more fitted to the character of a clown than to that of a finished performer.
To this the owner readily agreed, and that night they tried it with tremendous success.
The days that followed were bright ones for the circus boys. Each day seemed an improvement over the previous one. The season drew rapidly to a close and they looked forward to the day with keen regret.