Read The Circus Boys Across the Continent; Or, Winning New Laurels on the Tanbark Page 11


  CHAPTER IX

  THE MULE DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF

  The audience had half risen, believing that the girl would surelybe killed. It did seem that it would be a miracle if she escapedwithout serious injury.

  But the Circus Boy, his every faculty centered on the task beforehim, proposed to save her if he could.

  He sprang up on the ring curbing, stretching both hands above hishead as far as he could reach, bracing himself with legs wideapart to meet the shock.

  It is not an easy task to attempt to catch a person, especiallyif that person be falling toward you head first. But PhilForrest calculated in a flash how he would do it. That is,he would unless he missed.

  It all happened in much less time than it takes to tell it,of course, and a moment afterwards one could not have told how ithad occurred.

  The Circus Boy threw both hands under Dimples' outstretchedarms with the intention of jerking her down to her feet,then springing from the curbing with her before both shouldtopple over.

  His plan worked well up to the point of catching her.But instantly upon doing so he realized that she was movingwith such speed as to make it impossible for him to retainhis balance.

  Dimples was hurled into his arms with great force, bowling Philover like a ninepin. Yet, in falling, he did not lose hispresence of mind. He hoped fervently that he might be fortunateenough not to strike on a stake, of which there were many on thatside of the ring.

  "Save yourself!" gasped the girl.

  Instead, Phil held her up above him at arm's length. When hestruck it was full on his back, the back of his head coming incontact with the hard ground with such force as to stun himalmost to the point of unconsciousness. As he struck he gaveDimples a little throw so that she cleared his body, landing onthe ground beyond him.

  The girl stretched forth her hands and did a handspring, oncemore thorough master of herself, landing gracefully on her feet.But Phil had undoubtedly saved her life, as she well knew.

  Without giving the slightest heed to the audience, which washowling its delight, Dimples ran to the fallen lad, leaning overhim anxiously.

  "Are you hurt?" she begged, placing a hand on his head.

  "I--I guess not," answered Phil, pulling himself togethera little. "I'll get up or they'll think something is the matterwith me."

  "Let me help you."

  "No, thank you," he replied, brushing aside the hand she hadextended to him. But his back hurt him so severely that he couldonly with difficulty stand upright.

  Phil smiled and straightened, despite the pain.

  At that Dimples grasped him by the hand, leading him to theconcourse facing the reserved seats, where she made a low bow tothe audience; then, throwing both arms about Phil, she gave him ahearty kiss.

  Thunders of applause greeted this, the audience getting to itsfeet in its excitement. Had it been possible, both the boy andMiss Dimples would have been borne in triumph from the ring.

  "Come back and sit down while I finish my act," she whispered.

  "You're not going to try that again, are you?" questioned Phil.

  "Of course I am. You'll see what a hit it will make."

  "I saw that you came near making a hit a few moments ago,"answered the lad.

  "There, there; don't be sarcastic," she chided, giving him aplayful tap. "If you feel strong enough, please help me up."

  Phil did so smilingly; then he retired to his place by the centerpole, against which he braced his aching back.

  "Turn after you have gotten over the rough spot," hecautioned her.

  Dimples nodded her understanding.

  This time Phil held his breath as he saw her crouching ever solittle for her spring.

  Dimples uttered another shrill "yip!" and threw herself into theair again.

  He saw, with keen satisfaction, that this time she was notgoing to miss. Dimples turned in the air with wonderful grace,alighting far back on the broad hips of the gray horse withbird-like lightness.

  Phil doffed his hat, and, getting to his feet, limped away,with the audience roaring out its applause. They had forgottenall about the boy who but a few moments before had saved LittleDimples' life, and he was fully as well satisfied that it shouldbe so.

  Just as he was passing the bandstand the educated mule,with Teddy Tucker on its back, bolted through the curtainslike a projectile. The mule nearly ran over Phil, then broughtup suddenly to launch both heels at him. But the Circus Boy hadseen this same mule in action before, and this time Phil haddiscreetly ducked under the bandstand.

  Then the mule was off.

  "Hi-yi-yi-yip-yi!" howled Teddy, as the outfit bolted intothe arena. The old hands with the show discreetly darted forcover when they saw Teddy and his mule coming. Like PhilForrest,they had had experience with this same wild outfit before.There was no knowing what the bucking mule might not do,while there was a reasonable certainty in their minds asto what he would do if given half a chance.

  "Hi! Hi! Look out!" howled Teddy as they neared the entranceto the menagerie tent, where a number of people were standing.The boy saw that the mule had taken it into his stubborn headto enter the menagerie tent, there to give an exhibition ofhis contrariness.

  In they swept like a miniature whirlwind, the mule twisting thisway and that, stopping suddenly now and then and bracing its feetin desperate efforts to unseat its rider.

  But Teddy held on grimly. This rough riding was the delight ofhis heart, and the lad really was a splendid horseman, though itis doubtful if he realized this fact himself.

  A man was crossing the menagerie tent with a pail of water ineach hand. The mule saw him. Here was an opportunity not tobe lost.

  Teddy's mount swept past the fellow. Then both the beast's heelsshot out, catching both the pails at the same time. The twopails took the air in a beautiful curve, like a pair of rockets,distributing water all the way across the tent, a liberal portionof which was spilled over the water carrier as the pails lefthis hands.

  The man chanced to be Larry, Teddy's enemy. Teddy was travelingat such a rapid rate that he did not recognize the fellow,but Larry recognized him, and thereby another account was chargedup against the Circus Boy.

  But the mule, though the time limit for his act had expired,had not quite satisfied his longing for excitement.Whirling about, he plunged toward the big top again.

  "Whoa! Whoa!" howled Teddy, tugging at the reins. But he mightas well have tried to check the wind. Nothing short of a stonewall could stop the educated mule until he was ready to stop.The ringmaster had blown his whistle for the next act and theperformers were running to their stations when Teddy and hismount suddenly made their appearance again.

  "Get out of here!" yelled the ringmaster.

  "I am trying to do so," howled Teddy in a jeering voice."Can't go any faster than I am."

  "Stop him! You'll run somebody down!" shouted Mr. Sparling,dodging out of the way as the mule, with ears laid back on hishead, dashed straight at the showman.

  "Can't stop. In a hurry," answered Teddy.

  On they plunged past the bandstand again, the mule pausingat the paddock entrance long enough to kick the silk curtainsinto ribbons. Next he made a dive for the dressing tent.

  In less time than it takes to tell it, the dressing tent lookedas if it had been struck by a cyclone.

  Clubs and side poles were brought down on the rump of the wildmule,most of which were promptly kicked through the side of the tent.Teddy, in the meantime, had landed in a performer's trunk,smashingthrough the tray, being wedged in so tightly that he could notextricate himself. Added to the din was Teddy's voice howlingfor help.

  The performers, in all stages of dress and undress, had fled tothe outside.

  Then, the mule becoming suddenly meek, pricked forward his ears,ambled out into the paddock and began contentedly nibbling at thefresh grass about the edges of the enclosure.

  About this time Mr. Sparling came running in. His face was redand the perspiration was roll
ing down it.

  "Where's that fool boy?" he bellowed. "Where is he, I say?"

  "Here he is," answered the plaintive voice of Teddy Tucker.

  "Come out of that!"

  "I can't. I'm stuck fast."

  The showman jerked him out with scant ceremony, while Teddy beganpulling pieces of the trunk tray out of his clothes.

  "Do you want to put my show out of business? What do you thinkthis is--a cowboy picnic? I'll fire you. I'll--"

  "Better fire the mule. I couldn't stop him," answered the boy.

  By this time the performers, after making sure that the mule hadgone, were creeping back.

  "I'll cut that act out. I'll have the mule shot. I'll--Get out of here, before I take you over my knee and give youwhat you deserve."

  "I'm off," grinned Teddy, ducking under the canvas.

  He was seen no more about the dressing tent until just before itwas time to go on for the evening performance.