Mr. Sparling, however, at the first alarm, had leaped from his
carriage, and, thrusting a rider from his mount, sprang into the
saddle and came tearing down the line in a cloud of dust. He was
bearing down on the scene at express train speed.
"The woman will be killed!"
"Stop him! Stop him!"
"Stop him yourself!"
But not a man made an effort to do anything.
It had all occurred in a few seconds, but rapidly as the events
succeeded each other, Phil Forrest seemed to be the one among
them who retained his presence of mind.
He fairly launched himself into the air as the ugly broncho shot
alongside the clowns' wagon.
CHAPTER VI
PROVING HIS METTLE
Familiar as they were with daring deeds, those of the circus
people who witnessed Phil Forrest's dive gasped.
They expected to see the boy fall beneath the feet of the
plunging pony, where he would be likely to be trampled and kicked
to death.
But Phil had looked before he leaped. He had measured his
distance well--had made up his mind exactly what he was going to
do, or rather what he was going to try to do.
The pony, catching a brief glimpse of the dark figure that was
being hurled through the air directly toward him, made a swift
leap to one side.
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