"I don't know. Where is Mr. Sparling?"
"I haven't seen him since I ran into him and bowled him over off on the lot."
Phil laughed.
"As I have said many times before, you are hopeless, Teddy. I must go now. If you see Mr. Sparling, please let me know, but say nothing to anyone about what I have just told you."
"I won't."
Phil walked back to the point on the deck where he had first stopped to look over the rail, and, drawing up a stool sat down. He began studying the faces of the belated performers who came straggling down to the dock, singly and in pairs. None seemed to be in a hurry; not a face appeared to reflect any excitement. After an hour of this Phil felt sure that all the company had been accounted for.
Mr. Sparling had arrived about twenty minutes earlier, and was standing on the dock giving orders. As the lad saw the owner enter the boat he turned away and hurried downstairs.
"When you are at liberty, I should like a few moments conversation with you, sir," announced Phil.
"I am at liberty, now, my lad," answered the showman with a smile and a friendly slap on the boy's shoulder.
"I would rather not talk here, Mr. Sparling," answered Phil in a low tone.