It seemed a foolhardy thing to do, but Phil understood exactly how togo about it. If he were able to turn the team, he would undoubtedly savethem from plunging into the seats where hundreds of people were sitting.

　　A trained circus horse always will avoid the spectators, but there is noaccounting for what a green animal will do.

　　Grasping the bit of the animal nearest to him, Phil threw his wholeweight into the effort. To his intense satisfaction the team swerved, halfturned and dashed across the arena again. This time, however, they didnot go far. The outfit smashed into the main center pole, and Phil wenton, sitting down violently in the middle of the concourse, unhurt, but moreor less shaken up.

　　By that time ring attendants had caught the frightened horses. Alldanger was over.

　　Phil Forrest was loudly cheered by the spectators, but his borrowedofficer's uniform was a hopeless wreck. It was torn beyond anypossibility of repair.

　　Upon investigation, which Phil made at once, he found that the capthat held the chariot wheel in place, had been removed. No trace of itever was found, and Phil well knew that the mysterious enemy was oncemore at work. The news was conveyed to Mr. Sparling, with theinformation that Phil had gleaned.

　　He also bore the unwelcome tidings to his employer that their leadingwoman chariot driver had broken both arms and that she would notperform again that season, if ever again.

　　Mr. Sparling was so angered over this latest outrage that he wasscarcely able to control himself. Yet he knew that it would be best tomaintain silence until the detective had had an opportunity to make aninvestigation. Some of the circus people, however, had voiced asuspicion that the accident was a deliberate attempt to do the show aninjury, and this was quickly passed from lip to lip, until almost everyonehad heard it. The show people accepted the situation quietly, as wastheir wont, nevertheless they were very much excited. There was notelling when they themselves might fall victims to the mysterious enemy,and each one vowed to run down the scoundrel who they knew must be amember of the circus family.

　　Phil made some guarded inquiries, but was unable to learn whether ornot anyone had been observed about the chariots that day. The hub cap,of course, might have been removed while the chariots were still on theboat, but in that event its loss would no doubt have been noticed, for thecaps were of brass, large and prominent.

　　Phil decided that the act must have been committed just before thechariots were driven into the arena for the Roman races.

　　In this, Phil Forrest was right.

　　The solution of the mystery was at hand, however, and was to come ina most unexpected manner.

　　Supper had been eaten, and most of the performers were out on the lot,enjoying the balmy air of the early evening for the few moments left tothem before they would be obliged to repair to the dressing tent to makeready for the evening performance.

　　Phil decided to go in, after finishing a talk with Mr. Sparling in thelatter's private tent. As the lad passed through the menagerie tent theattendants were lighting the gasoline lamps there and hauling them up thecenter poles.

　　Under the big top, however, one could not see half its length. Thelights there would not be turned on for fifteen or twenty minutes yet. Nota person was in sight as Phil entered the tent, making his way slowly downthe concourse. He paused half-way down, seating himself on agrandstand chair in one of the arena boxes, where he thought over thelatest exploit of the show's enemy.

　　"This time they were not after me, but after the outfit itself," hemuttered. "That is the time the fellow showed his hand, and it gives mean idea. I--hello, there is someone who acts as if he did not wish to beseen."Phil sat still and watched. Someone had slipped in under the tentdown at the other end, directly across the arena from where the bandstandwas located. It had now become so dark in the tent that Phil could notmake out the fellow's features. In fact, the man was a mere shadow.

　　"I wonder what he is doing there?"Then a thought struck Phil Forrest like a blow.

　　"That's where they put the big net between performances."Phil crept down into the arena and made his way back to the entranceto the menagerie tent, where he quickly slipped out into the open and randown along the outside of the big top at his best speed. As he drewnear the spot where he had seen the man, he moved cautiously.

　　Finally Phil dropped down and peered under the tent. He was lessthan ten feet from where the fellow was at work. The Circus Boy couldcatch a "rip, rip" now and then.

　　"The fiend is cutting the net," he muttered. "I wonder who he is.

　　Ah, I know him now! He is one of the tent men. I never thought hewas in this thing. I must catch him--I must make the attempt, for he mayget away. I don't even know the fellow's name, nor do I understand hisenmity toward the show or myself."Phil wriggled in under the tent, now, not fearing discovery, for insidethe tent, it was quite dark. Slowly raising himself to his feet, he edgednearer, step by step, to where the man was at work. The man had partlyspread the net out by this time, to make sure that he was cutting it ............