"The elephant's tipping the lion cage over!" shouted someone.
"Run for your lives!"
For once in his life Teddy Tucker executed a lightning-like
movement. He was one of several dark streaks on the landscape
running as if Wallace, the biggest lion in captivity, were in
reality hard upon his heels. As he ran, Teddy uttered a howl
that could have been heard from one end of the circus lot to the
other.
A few of the more fearless ones, the old hands of the show, did
not attempt to run. Instead they stood still, fairly holding
their breaths, waiting to see what would happen next.
Mr. Sparling was too far away to be able to do anything to
prevent the catastrophe that was hanging over them, but it did
not prevent him from yelling like a madman at the inactive
employees of the show.
At the first cry--the instant he comprehended what was
happening-- Phil Forrest moved every bit as quickly as had his
companion, though he leaped in the opposite direction.
All about on the ground lay tent poles of various length and
thickness, side poles, quarter poles and the short side poles
used to hold the tent walls in place. These were about twenty
feet in length and light enough to be easily handled.
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