"That is what I am asking you. Have you had any
misunderstanding--angry words or anything of the sort with him?"
persisted Phil Forrest, with a keen, inquiring glance into the
face of his companion.

"Well, maybe," admitted the Circus Boy, with evident reluctance.
"What made you think I had?"

"From the way he looked at you when you were standing in the
paddock this afternoon, waiting for your cue to go on."

"Huh! How did he look at me?"

"As if he had a grudge against you. There was an expression in
his eyes that said more plainly than words, 'I'll get even with
you yet, young man, you see if I do not.'"

"Wonderful!" breathed Teddy.

"What do you mean?"

"You must be a mind reader, Phil Forrest," grumbled Teddy,
digging his heel into the soft turf of the circus lot. "Can you
read my mind? If you can, what am I thinking about now?"

"You are thinking," answered Phil slowly, "that you will make me
forget the question I asked you just now. You are thinking you
would rather not answer my question."

Teddy opened his eyes a little wider.