his breath coming in short, quick gasps.

What he was seeking to do was to get the rope they had tossed to
him, through the big loop. In his effort to do so, the coil
slipped from his hands, knocking a canvasman down as it fell,
but the lad had held to the other end with a desperate grip.

Now he began working it through the loop inch by inch. It was
a slow process, but he was succeeding even better than he
had hoped.

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