The next act was a bareback riding exhibition, by a pretty, graceful young woman whom the ringmaster introduced as Mademoiselle Mora.
At the crack of the whip she sprang lightly to the back of the gray old ring horse and began a series of feats that made the boys sit forward in their seats.
At the conclusion of the act Mademoiselle Mora ran out to the edge of the ring, and blowing a kiss at the blushing Phil, tripped away on fairy feet for the dressing tent.
“Did you see her? She bowed to me?” exclaimed Teddy enthusiastically.
“Guess she didn’t see you at all, young man,” replied Mrs. Cahill dryly. “There’s others in the tent besides you, even if the ringmaster did crack his whip in your face and just miss your nose.”
A clown came out and sang a song about a boy who had rescued a beautiful young woman from a runaway horse and got kidnaped by an elephant. The song made a hit, for most of the audience understood that it referred to Phil Forrest.
And so the performance went on, with a glitter and a crash, a haze of yellow dust hanging like a golden cloud in the afternoon sun, over spectators and performers alike.
“Hello, there’s Rod!” exclaimed Teddy.
“Who?”
“Rod. The red-haired kid we saw this morning, only his hair is black now. He’s covered up his own looks so he won’t set the tent on fire.”