"Because I know you so well. There is something on your mind that you have not told me. I want to know what it is."
Phil's eyes were lowered to the green grass at his feet. For a moment he was silent and thoughtful.
"What is it you wish me to tell you, Mr. Sparling?" he asked in a low voice.
"You have not given me a satisfactory explanation of how you came to get into the river."
"Perhaps I fell in," answered the lad with a faint smile.
"Perhaps. But you have not said so. I want you to tell me how you did get in."
"I think I was thrown in, Mr. Sparling," answered the
Circus Boy quickly.
"Thrown in!" exclaimed the showman, leaping to his feet, his face working convulsively in his effort to control his emotions. "Phil Forrest, do you mean that?"
"I do."
Mr. Sparling sat down helplessly.