"You mean you owe to your own brightness and cleverness.
No, Phil, you are a boy who would have succeeded anywhere.
They can't keep you down—no, not even were they to sit
on you."
"If Fat Marie, with her five hundred and odd pounds, were to sit on me, I rather think I would be kept down," answered the Circus Boy, with a hearty laugh in which Mr. Sparling joined uproariously.
"What is Teddy doing out in the ring?"
"I left him there to keep an eye on the injured horse."
"Why, Phil?"
"Until I could get back and make an examination."
"Very well; I want to see you after you have done so."
"I will look you up."
With that Phil hurried out into the arena. None of the spectators appeared to recognize the lad in his street clothes. Besides, he tried to avoid observation. He might have been one of the spectators, except that he picked his way, among the ropes and properties down through the center, where the public were not allowed to go.
"The rest of you may go," said Phil, reaching the ring where
Jim lay breathing heavily. "Thank you for easing off old Jim.
I know he appreciates it."