Part 27 (1/2)

”I know what I'll do. I'll slip back to the lot and perhaps I shall be able to find something to put on. There's usually plenty of coats lying about on the wagons.”

Now that the uproar had ceased Phil crept back toward the circus lot, lying down in the gra.s.s whenever he heard a sound near him and peering into the darkness.

At the risk of being discovered he crawled up to a wagon, climbed aboard and searched it diligently for clothes. He found none.

Keenly disappointed, Phil made his way to the pole wagon under which he had taken refuge in his first effort at getting away.

This, he found, was loaded ready to be taken to the train.

At any moment, now, a team might be hitched to it.

”I guess I'll have to hurry!” muttered the lad. Phil's knowledge of circus affairs stood him in good stead now.

To the boy's delight, he found a bundle in which were a coat and a pair of overalls, rolled up and stowed under the driver's seat.

”Fine!” chuckled Phil. ”It's a good deal like stealing, but I have to have them and I'll send the fellow a new pair if ever I get back to my own show. He'll be mad in the morning when he goes to get his clothes. I wish I had a hat and pair of shoes.

But I guess I ought to be thankful for what I already have.”

Saying this, Phil dropped from the wagon and quickly got into the clothes. They were old and dirty, but he did not mind that.

They were clothes and they would cover his conspicuous ring costume, which was the most important thing for him to consider at the present moment.

”Now, I'll buy a ticket and get started for Corinto,” he decided.

Phil reached under the neck of his s.h.i.+rt for his little bag of money.

”Oh, pshaw! I've lost it. Let me see, did I put my money in there before I entered the ring?”

For the life of him he was unable to say whether he had done so, or whether his money was still in his clothes back in the dressing tent.

”Well, I shall never see that money again, I am thinking. If I left it in my clothes it is gone by this time, and if I didn't it is gone anyway,” was his logical conclusion.

The first thing to be done now was to get off the lot, which Phil did as quickly as possible. Clad in the soiled, well-worn garments with his coat b.u.t.toned tightly about his neck, the lad attracted no special attention. Getting well away from the circus grounds, he halted to consider what his next move should he.

”I guess I'll go over to the station and get some information,”

he decided. This he did, but the lights looked so bright in the station that he did not consider it prudent to enter. So Phil waited about until he saw one of the railroad switchmen coming in from the yards.

”How far is it to Corinto, please?” he asked.

”Fifty miles.”

”Whew! So far as that?”

”Yes. Belong to the show?”

”Well, not exactly. I'm with them, but I can't say that I belong to the outfit, and I'm glad I don't.”

”Should think you would be glad,” growled the switchman, who evidently held the Sully combination in no high regard.

”Which way do the trains go for Corinto?”

”That way. That track runs right through without a break.

It's a single track road all the way.”