"I told you that boy was a natural born showman. You can't stop
that kind with a club. Can you stand up alone?"
"Yes."
Phil scrambled to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the
table.
"I'll be all right after I walk about a bit. How long before the
elephants go in?"
"You've got fifteen minutes yet."
"Then I may go on?"
"Yes, yes, go on. You'll never be satisfied if you don't. But I
ought to take you over my knee and give you a sound walloping."
"Thank you. How is Mr.--Mr.--the trainer?"
"He isn't badly hurt, thanks to your presence of mind, young
man," answered the surgeon.
"That makes two people you've saved today, Forrest," emphasized
Mr. Sparling. "We will call that a day's work. You have earned
your meal ticket. Better run back to the dressing tent and ask
them to fix up some clothes for you. Ask for Mrs. Waite, the
wardrobe woman. Teddy Tucker, you run in and tell Mr. Kennedy,
who has charge of the elephants, that Phil will ride tonight, and
to wait until he gets in."
Both boys hurried away on their respective missions. All that
Mrs. Waite had that would come anywhere near fitting Phil was a
yellow robe that looked like a night gown.
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