Mr. Sparling now saw what Phil's purpose was. About the same
time the others down there made the same discovery.
They set up a cheer of approval.
"Wait!" commanded the owner of the show. "The lad isn't out of
the woods yet. You men on the net look lively there. If you
don't catch him should he fall, you take my word for it, it'll go
mighty hard with you."
"We'll catch him."
"You'd better, if you know what's good for you. Goodness, but
he's got the strength and the grit! I never saw anything like it
in all my circus experience."
They could not help him. There was no way by which any of them
could reach Phil, and all they could do was to stand by and do
the best they could at breaking his fall should he be forced to
let go, as it seemed that he must do soon.
Nearer and nearer crept the line toward the ground, but it was
yet far above their heads. It was moving faster, however, as
Phil got more weight of rope through the loop, thus requiring
less effort on his part to send it along on its journey.
"Side pole! Side pole!" shouted the boy, barely making himself
heard above the shouts below.
At first they did not catch the meaning of his words.
Mr. Sparling, of course, was the first to do so.
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