SAWDUST AND SPANGLES


Andy stared down at a sea of faces. They seemed far away. The circus
manager had stepped briskly out into the ring.

In great wonderment he stood gazing aloft. The audience swayed, and a
general murmur filled the air. Many pointed upwards. Some arose from
their seats, craning their necks in excitement.

The orchestra dropped the music to low, undecided notes. Puzzled
spectators wondered if the strange appearance above was part of some new
novelty change in the programme.

Andy clung to the dangling strip of canvas for dear life. The trapezist,
Thacher, stared at him in profound astonishment. He was about to speak,
to demand an explanation, when there was a second ripping sound.

"Look out!" cried Thacher sharply.

Andy saw what was happening. The canvas strip that had torn free
lengthwise was now splitting its breadth.

In another moment a mere filament of cloth would hold Andy suspended. He
must act, and act quickly, or take a plunge sixty feet down.

Andy did not lose his presence of mind. Just the same as if he was on
the rafters of the old barn at home, or practicing on a rope strung from
two high tree tops, as had been many a time the case, he calculated his
chances and set his skill at work.