Sparling," said Phil boldly.
"Neither do I, neither do I. Emperor has gone daffy over you.
What did you feed him?"
"Some sugar and peanuts. That was all."
"Huh! You ought to be a showman."
"I have always wanted to be, Mr. Sparling."
"Oh, you have, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, why don't you?"
"I have never had the opportunity."
"You mean you've never looked for an opportunity. There are
always opportunities for everything, but we have to go after
them. You've been going after them today for the first time, and
you've nailed one of them clear up to the splice of the center
pole. Understand?"
"Not entirely, sir."
"Well, do you want to join out with the Great Sparling Combined
Shows, or don't you?"
"You mean--I join the--the--"
Mr. Sparling was observing him narrowly.
"I said, would you like to join our show?"
"I should like it better than anything else in the world."
"Sign this contract, then," snapped the showman, thrusting a
paper toward Phil Forrest, at the same time dipping a pen in the
ink bottle and handing it to him.
"You will allow me to read it first, will you not?"
"Good! That's the way I like to hear a boy talk.
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