noise as the huge iron ring in the peak began slipping down the
center pole.

The key rope coiled on the ground was running out and squirming
up into the air. Only a single coil of it remained when Phil
suddenly darted forward. With a bound, he threw himself upon the
rope, giving it a quick twist about his arm.

The instant Phil had fastened his grip upon the rope he shot up
into the air so quickly that the onlookers failed to catch the
meaning of his sudden flight.

One pair of eyes, however, saw and understood. They belonged to
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.

"The boy will he killed!" he groaned. "Let go!"



CHAPTER V

DOING A MAN'S WORK

For one brief instant Phil Forrest's head was giddy and his
breath fairly left his body from the speed with which he was
propelled upward on the key rope.

But the lad had not for a second lost his presence of mind.
Below him was some eight feet of the rope dangling in the air.