It was late when the Circus Boy awoke next morning. A stewardrapped at the door and a suit of officer's clothes, brass buttons and all washanded in to him.

　　"With the captain's compliments, sir," said the steward. "He hopes itwill fit you. When you are ready, you will please come to the saloon forbreakfast.""Thank the captain for me, and say that I can't get there any too soon,"laughed Phil, springing out of bed.

　　The passengers had all heard the remarkable tale from the captain thatmorning, and they were anxious to see the young Circus Boy who hadperformed such a plucky act.

　　Phil entered the dining room, not thinking for a minute that he wouldbe recognized. When the passengers saw the handsome young fellow inan officer's uniform, they knew him. Everyone in the room sprang to hisfeet and three cheers rang out for Phil Forrest.

　　"Speech, speech!" cried someone.

　　Blushing faintly, Phil glanced about him.

　　"You cannot expect a boy to make much of a speech before breakfast,especially after he has been swimming most of the night. I don't knowthat I am entitled to any special credit. I saved only my own life, and Ido not expect to get a medal for it, either. I hope all of you will visitthe Great Sparling Shows at the first opportunity. Then I shall try toentertain you in a way that I understand far better than this. I'm verymuch obliged to you all."Then Phil sat down. The passengers gave him another cheer, louderand more enthusiastic than the first. Mr. Sparling would have been proudof the lad could he have heard that speech. Phil lost no opportunity toadvertise the Sparling shows, and every passenger on the boat, thatmorning, made up his mind to visit the show ere another week had passed.

　　All the rest of the morning Phil was a hero in the eyes of thepassengers, who followed him wherever he went, asking questions abouthis experience in the river, and how he had happened to fall in, as well asnumerous questions about the life of a circus man.

　　With regard to his accident, Phil had little to say. He seemed to wishto avoid discussing the falling-in matter, but his face took on a seriousexpression when it was referred to.

　　At last Memphis was sighted. Phil arranged with the captain toreturn the uniform, which he promised to send to St. Louis, so that hisbenefactor could get it on the return trip.

　　As the craft began drawing in toward the dock, the Circus Boy bade allthe passengers good-bye, everyone of whom insisted on shaking handswith him.

　　Phil walked off, the passengers giving him three cheers as he steppedover the gangplank to the dock. Before he had reached the end of it, hewas overtaken by a reporter who had just heard of Phil's feat and wishedan interview.

　　At first Phil was reluctant to speak.

　　"I think it will be a good advertisement for the show," he said tohimself. So the Circus Boy related, modestly, the story of hisexperience in the river and of his rescue of himself; not forgetting to saysome pleasant things about the Sparling shows, which would visitMemphis two days hence. That afternoon he saw his story set forth inthe Memphis newspaper. He bought two papers, one of which he tuckedin his pocket, sending the other to Mrs. Cahill, his guardian. His nextmove was to start for the station, to take a train for Corinth. He wasalready too late to reach that town in time for the afternoon performance,but he had wired Mr. Sparling that he was safe.

　　As it happened the lad reached the show grounds before his messagehad been delivered. Mr. Sparling, well nigh beside himself with worry,had telegraphed to all points passed by their boats, begging that neithereffort nor expense be spared to find his Circus Boy.

　　The showman was standing in front of his office tent, that afternoon, atabout three o'clock, his broad-brimmed slouch hat pulled well down overhis eyes, his hands thrust deep in his trousers pockets.

　　Off under the big top the band was playing a lively tune, and theside-show people were out in front sunning themselves, all discussing PhilForrest's mysterious disappearance.

　　After a short time, Mr. Sparling espied a young man in uniformcoming on the lot. He did not pay much attention to the stranger,thinking the fellow was a police officer or something of the sort.

　　As the young man drew nearer, however, the showman thought henoted something familiar in the springy step and the poise of the body.

　　"Now, who is that?" he muttered. "Somehow I seem to know thatyoungster."Others about the main entrance were also looking in his directionabout that time. Still no one seemed to recognize the young man.

　　All at once the showman tilted up the rim of his hat and gazed morekeenly.

　　"Phil!" he shouted, casting the hat aside and running forward withoutstretched arms. "It's Phil, it's Phil Forrest!"A moment more and Mr. James Sparling had clasped his little CircusBoy about the waist, hugging him delightedly. There was a suspiciousmoisture in the eyes of the showman, which he sought to hide from Phil.

　　"Phil! Phil! Where have you been?" he cried leading the boytoward the office tent. "And that uniform--what does it mean?""I will tell you all about it as soon as I get my breath," laughed the lad.

　　By this time the others out in front had hurried forward, showeringquestions upon the boy, all of which he answered without giving verymuch information. He wished to talk with Mr. Sparling first of all.

　　"Where is Teddy?" was almost his first question.

　　"He is in the big top at work.""I presume he was considerably excited when he missed me, was henot?""Yes, at first, but since then he has not said much. Teddy is a queerboy."The word was quickly passed that Phil had returned safe and sound,and ten minutes after his arrival every man and woman in the show hadheard the news. There was great rejoicing.

　　Teddy was going through his clown act when he first heard the rumorthat Phil was back. Teddy waited until he had worked around to theentrance to the menagerie tent when he suddenly darted through, leavinghis work and the ring, a most serious breach of discipline. Teddy,however, did not care. He was willing to be fined. He bolted throughthe main entrance like a miniature tornado, to the amazement of the doortenders.

　　"Where's Phil?" he shouted.

　　One of the doormen pointed to Mr. Sparling's office tent.

　　The little clown was off on a run.

　　"Hey, Phil, you old rascal! Where have you been?" he demanded,dashing into the small tent.

　　"I have been out for a swim, old fellow. Did you miss me?""I nearly broke my neck thinking about you this afternoon. Landedon my head in the leaping act, and I've got a pain in my neck yet.""Young man, what are you doing here?" demanded the showman,sternly.

　　"Same thing you are. Seeing Phil.""Get back to your act!""I'm o............