"Well," grinned Burton, a little sheepishly, "if you put it that way, I'll have to acknowledge the corn. But the girl was clear-headed, wasn't she? She didn't fall off the trapeze, and she pulled off some hair-raising tricks on that flying bar that set the crowd gasping. It was the biggest novelty in the way of an act that any show ever put up. Results will show at the ticket wagon this afternoon. Too confoundedly bad, though, that the thing should have been marred by that fire. How long will it take you to fix up the machine? Can you do it in time for an ascent to-night? I've planned to have Haidee shoot off skyrockets from the trapeze, and Roman candles, and all that."
"You'll have to cut out the fireworks, Burton," said Matt dryly. "It will take a full day to repair the Comet."
Burton "went up in the air" on the instant.
"Think of the loss!" he exclaimed. "You've got to repair the machine in time for the ascent this evening. If it's a matter of men, King, I'll give you a dozen to help."
"It's not a matter of men," said Matt. "Joe and I are the only ones who can work on the Comet. And listen to this—I mean it, and if you don't like it we'll break our contract right here—Haidee has gone up with me for the last time. I'll take Archie le Bon, or any one else you want to send, but not Haidee."
"Is this what you call treating me square?" fumed Burton.
"Sufferin' Ananias!" grunted McGlory. "You're a nice lame duck to talk about being treated square! You've got a treacherous outfit, Burton, and Pard Matt and I are not beginning to like it any too well."
Matt, thinking McGlory might tell what Haidee had done, gave him a restraining look.
"You're responsible for the trouble that overtook the Comet, Burton," proceeded Matt.
"Me?" echoed the showman, aghast. "Well, I'd like to know how you figure it."