Chap­ter XX opens with a burst of applause and a dose of unex­pect­ed recog­ni­tion. Ted­dy, in the after­math of his mule act mishap, finds him­self reward­ed rather than rep­ri­mand­ed. James Spar­ling, nev­er one to miss a pro­mo­tion­al oppor­tu­ni­ty, sees val­ue in Teddy’s chaot­ic charm and offers him dou­ble pay for per­form­ing the same act inten­tion­al­ly. From a tent hand to a crowd favorite, Teddy’s ascent is quick and thrilling. His part­ner­ship with the “edu­cat­ed mule” becomes a source of laugh­ter and tick­et sales, though he wise­ly avoids adding a dan­ger­ous dive to his rou­tine. It’s a moment of val­i­da­tion that Ted­dy did­n’t expect but clear­ly enjoys. Mean­while, the return of Phil For­rest adds bal­ance to the nar­ra­tive, as his pres­ence stead­ies the more impul­sive Ted­dy. Phil’s prac­ti­cal advice about sav­ing mon­ey and send­ing it to Mrs. Cahill shows a matu­ri­ty shaped by expe­ri­ence and respon­si­bil­i­ty beyond the cir­cus ring.

The con­trast between Ted­dy’s spon­tane­ity and Phil’s dis­ci­pline gives depth to their friend­ship. They talk of future goals, hint­ing at dreams of one day own­ing a show them­selves. Phil’s sug­ges­tion of invest­ing in their edu­ca­tion under­scores his long-term vision and aware­ness that cir­cus fame might be fleet­ing. Their deci­sion to con­tin­ue phys­i­cal train­ing, encour­aged by Mr. Mia­co, reveals their seri­ous­ness about self-improve­ment. It’s not just per­for­mance that dri­ves them, but pur­pose. These moments aren’t just filler—they show how ambi­tion can coex­ist with fun, how a career in the cir­cus is built as much on dis­ci­pline as on spec­ta­cle. The phys­i­cal strain of cir­cus work is no small mat­ter either; con­di­tion­ing and care­ful prepa­ra­tion make the dif­fer­ence between show­man­ship and injury. Even laugh­ter in the big top is sup­port­ed by qui­et moments of sweat, stretch­ing, and strat­e­gy. These boys are per­form­ers and thinkers, learn­ing how to jug­gle both worlds.

A vis­it to the menagerie tent brings back a sense of con­nec­tion for Phil. Emper­or, the ele­phant, greets him warm­ly, the bond between human and ani­mal clear­ly mutu­al. There’s some­thing ground­ing in this relationship—Emperor doesn’t care about pay­checks or applause, just the famil­iar­i­ty of a kind voice. It’s a reminder that the cir­cus is more than lights and illu­sions. Phil finds com­fort in these qui­et inter­ac­tions, a kind of emo­tion­al reset after his recent fall. Ani­mals often serve as a mir­ror in sto­ries like these, reflect­ing loy­al­ty and resilience with­out the com­pli­ca­tions of human egos. Emperor’s pres­ence calms Phil, rein­forc­ing why he loves this life even amid dan­ger. That seren­i­ty, though, is short-lived.

The mys­tery around Phil’s fall resur­faces, cast­ing a shad­ow over the applause. He begins to dig into what caused his acci­dent, trou­bled by the pos­si­bil­i­ty that it wasn’t just bad luck. Find­ing a filed-through wire and a sus­pi­cious tool hid­den in his own trunk sends a chill down his spine. Sab­o­tage isn’t a word light­ly used, espe­cial­ly in a close-knit troupe where trust is essen­tial. Phil con­fronts Mr. Spar­ling, pre­sent­ing his find­ings not with fear, but with the steady voice of some­one who val­ues truth over blame. Spar­ling lis­tens care­ful­ly, sens­ing the weight of the dis­cov­ery, and though he says lit­tle, his con­cern is real. Their exchange is a qui­et turn­ing point—less dra­ma, more clar­i­ty. Some­one in the show may be hid­ing more than jeal­ousy.

Rather than spi­ral into para­noia, Phil refo­cus­es. He choos­es to trust his instincts and strength­en his resolve, deter­mined to stay alert with­out let­ting sus­pi­cion ruin the sense of fam­i­ly he feels with the cir­cus. Even the threat of sab­o­tage can’t shake his love for the per­for­mance, his respect for Mr. Mia­co, or his hope for what lies ahead. Phil knows now that fame attracts shad­ows, but shad­ows can’t dim a spot­light fueled by dis­ci­pline and courage. That choice—to keep going, to keep growing—cements him as more than just a boy on the fly­ing rings. He’s a leader in train­ing, a future that Mr. Spar­ling sees clear­ly. While Ted­dy brings ener­gy and chaos, Phil brings clar­i­ty and heart.

The chap­ter ends with­out fan­fare but with a thick­en­ing plot and deep­er resolve. Friend­ship remains cen­tral, but now it’s paired with a loom­ing ques­tion: who would want to hurt Phil? The mys­tery adds weight to the charm, ground­ing the light­ness of the cir­cus in some­thing more real. Read­ers are left with a rich­er picture—this is no longer just a sto­ry of acts and applause. It’s about ambi­tion, loy­al­ty, and what it costs to rise in a world where every eye is watch­ing.