"You look out for him, Phil. I—"
"Jump, Dimples!"
The ring horse had suddenly stumbled, its nose plowing up the sawdust in a cloud.
Phil, with rare presence of mind, lifted the feet from his shoulders and hurled the girl far from him.
"Land on your feet!" he shouted, then Phil plunged off, head first.
CHAPTER XIII
A NARROW ESCAPE
Thanks to Phil's presence of mind, Dimples had landed lightly on her feet well outside the ring curbing. Had the lad held to her ankles even a second too long the result must have been serious, if not fatal, for Dimples would have been hurled to the ground head first.
As it was, Phil gave her a lift, enabling her to double and "ball," a circus term meaning to curl one's feet up under the body, then straighten them as needed to give the body balance either in turning a somersault or in falling.
In doing so, however, Phil had had no thought for his own safety. He plunged forward over the head of the ring horse, striking the ground on his head and face.