A moment later and Phil Forrest appeared at the door of the car.
"You sent for me, did you not, Mr. Sparling?"
"Why, good evening, Phil," greeted the showman, looking up
quickly with a welcoming smile on his face.
"I call it a very bad evening, sir."
"Very well, we will revise our statement. Bad evening, Phil!"
"Same to you, Mr. Sparling," laughed the lad. "Yes, I think that
fits the case very well indeed."
"And now that we have observed the formalities, come in and
sit down. Are you wet?"
"No; I went to my car and changed before coming in. I thought a
few minutes' delay would make no difference. Had you sent for me
on the lot I would have reported more promptly."
"Quite right, my boy. No, there was nothing urgent. The storm
did not interfere much with the performance, did it?"
"No. The audience was a little nervous at one time, but the
scare quickly passed off."
"Where's your friend?"
"Teddy Tucker?"
"Yes."
"He was having an argument with the Strongest Man on Earth
when I left the dressing tent," laughed Phil. "It was
becoming quite heated."
"Over what?"
"Oh, Teddy insisted on sitting on the strong man's trunk while he
took off his tights. There was a mud hole in front of Teddy's
trunk and he did not wish to get his feet wet and muddy.
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