At first they did not catch the meaning of his words.Mr.Sparling, of course, was the first to do so.
"That's it! Oh, you idiots! You wooden Indians! You thick heads! Get a side pole, don't you understand?" and the owner made a dive at the nearest man to him, whereat the fellow quickly side-stepped and started off on a run for the pole for which Phil had asked.But, even then, some of the hands did not understand what he could want of a side pole.
The instant it was brought Mr.Sparling snatched it from the hands of the tentman.Raising the pole, assisted by the boss canvasman, he was able to reach the loop.The iron spike in the end of the pole was thrust through the loop, and by exerting considerable pressure they were able to force the loop slowly toward the ground.
"You'll have to hurry! I can't hang on much longer," cried Phil weakly.
"We'll hurry, my lad.It won't be half a minute now," encouraged Mr.Sparling."Stand by here you blockheads, ready to fall on that rope the minute it gets within reach.Three of you grab hold of the coil end and pay it out gradually.Be careful.Watch your business."Three men sprang to do his bidding."Here comes the loop!"Ready hands grasped the dangling rope.
The two strands were quickly carried together and the weight of a dozen men thrown on them, instantly relieving the strain on Phil Forrest's body.
Phil had saved the big top, and perhaps a few lives at the same time.Now a sudden dizziness seemed to have overtaken him.Everything appeared to be whirling about him, the big top spinning like a giant top before his eyes.