I knew what you were trying to do,
but I'd have bet a thousand yards of canvas you never would.
You did, though," and the showman sighed.
Phil was very much embarrassed and sat kicking his heels into
the soft turf, wishing that Mr. Sparling would talk about
something else.
"The whole town is talking about it. I'm going to have the press
agent wire the story on ahead. I told him, just before I came
in, that if he'd follow you he'd get 'copy' enough to last him
all the rest of his natural life. All that crowd out there has
come because there was a young circus boy with the show, who had
a head on his shoulders and the pluck to back his gray matter."
"Have you talked with Mr. Kennedy?" asked Phil, wishing to change
the personal trend of the conversation.
"Yes; why?"
"Did he say what he thought was the matter with Jupiter?"
"He didn't know. He knew only that Jupiter had been 'off' for
nearly two days. Kennedy said something about a bad stomach.
Why do you ask that question?" demanded the showman, with a
shrewd glance at the boy.
"Because I have been wondering about Jupiter quite a little
since morning. I've been thinking, Mr. Sparling."
"Now what are you driving at? You've got something in your head.
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