Teddy, who had come running up, suddenly stooped over and constituting himself a battering ram, ran full tilt into the tentman, the boy's head landing in the pit of the circus hand's stomach. The fellow went down, whereupon Teddy promptly sat on him until the others reached the scene.
"Now, what does this mean?" demanded the showman sternly.
"It means that I caught this fellow cutting the net. If you will look at it you will find it to be badly mutilated, I think." An examination proved that Phil was right. Mr. Sparling had all he could do to prevent the angry circus men from wreaking their vengeance on the wretch then and there.
Teddy, in the meantime, had been peering into the man's face.
"I know him! I know him!" howled the Circus Boy, dancing about.
"You know him?"
"Yes, do you remember Bad Eye who was mixed up with Red Larry, the fellow we sent to jail two or three seasons ago?"
"Yes."
"That's Bad Eye," pointing to the prisoner, "and he is bad medicine, besides."
"Is it possible?" muttered Phil, a new light breaking over him.