Thunders of applause greeted this, the audience getting to its
feet in its excitement. Had it been possible, both the boy and
Miss Dimples would have been borne in triumph from the ring.

"Come back and sit down while I finish my act," she whispered.

"You're not going to try that again, are you?" questioned Phil.

"Of course I am. You'll see what a hit it will make."

"I saw that you came near making a hit a few moments ago,"
answered the lad.

"There, there; don't be sarcastic," she chided, giving him a
playful tap. "If you feel strong enough, please help me up."

Phil did so smilingly; then he retired to his place by the center
pole, against which he braced his aching back.

"Turn after you have gotten over the rough spot," he
cautioned her.

Dimples nodded her understanding.

This time Phil held his breath as he saw her crouching ever so
little for her spring.

Dimples uttered another shrill "yip!" and threw herself into the
air again.