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The Circus Boys In Dixie Land Or Winning the Plaudits of the Sunny South

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The Circus Boys In Dixie Land
Winning the Plaudits of the Sunny South

by Edgar B. P. Darlington




The Circus Boys in Dixie Land



"I reckon the fellows will turn out to see us tomorrow
night, Teddy."

"I hope so, Phil. We'll show them that we are real circus
performers, won't we?"

Phil Forrest nodded happily.

"They know that already, I think. But we shall both feel proud
to perform in our home town again. They haven't seen us in the
ring since the day we first joined the show two years ago, and
then it was only a little performance."

"Remember the day I did a stunt in front of the circus billboard
back home?"

"And fell in the ditch, head first? I remember it," and
Phil Forrest laughed heartily.

"You and I weren't circus men then, were we?"


"But we are now."

"I guess we are," nodded Phil with emphasis. "Still, we have
something to learn yet. We are a couple of lucky boys, you and
I, Teddy Tucker. Had it not been for Mr. Sparling we might still
have been doing chores for our board in Edmeston."

"Instead, we are getting our envelopes with sixty dollars
apiece in them from the little red ticket wagon every Tuesday
morning, eh?"

"Just so."

"I never thought I'd be able to earn so much money as that in a
whole year," reflected Teddy.

"Nor I."

"Do you think we'll get any more 'raises' this season?"

"I haven't the least idea that we shall. You know our contracts
are signed for the season at sixty dollars a week. That surely
should be enough to satisfy us. We shall be able to save a whole
lot of money, this year; and, if we have good luck, in five years
more we'll be able to have a little show of our own."

Teddy agreed to this with a reflective nod.

"What kind of show?"

"Well, that remains to be seen," laughed Phil. "We shall be
lucky to have most any kind."

"Do you know what sort I'd like to have?"

"No. What kind?"

"Wild West show, a regular Buffalo Bill outfit, with wild
Indians, cowboys, bucking ponies and whoop! whoop! Hi-yi-yi!
You know?"

Teddy's eyes were glowing with excitement, while a dull red glow
showed beneath the tan on his face.

"I wouldn't get so excited about it," answered Phil,
highly amused.

"How'd you like that kind?"

"Not at all. It's too rough. Give me the circus every time,
with its life, its color, it's--oh, pshaw! What's the use
talking about it? Is there anything in the world more attractive
than those tents over there, with the flags of every nation
flying from center and quarter poles? Is there, Teddy?"

"Well, no; I guess that's right."

For a moment the lads were silent. They were sitting beneath a
spreading maple tree off, on the circus lot, a few rods from
where the tents were being erected. A gentle breeze was stirring
the flags, billowing the white canvas of the tents in slow,
undulating waves.

"And to think that we belong to that! Do you know, sometimes I
think it is all a dream, and I'm afraid I shall suddenly wake up
to find myself back in Edmeston with Uncle Abner Adams driving me
out of the house with a stick."

Phil's face grew solemn as those unhappy days under his uncle's
roof came back to him in a flood of disquieting memories.

"Don't wake up, then," replied Teddy.

"I think perhaps we had better both wake up if we expect to get
any breakfast. The red flag is flying on the cook tent, which
means that breakfast is ready--in fact, breakfast must be pretty
well over by this time. First thing we know the blue flag will
suddenly appear in its place, and you and I will have to hustle
downtown for something to eat. It will be parade time pretty
soon, too."

"Breakfast? Say, Phil, I'd forgotten all about breakfast."

"There must be something wrong with you, then, if you forget when
it's meal time. As for myself, I have an appetite that would put
the Bengal tiger to shame. Come along."

"I'm with you. I'll show you whether my appetite has a reef in
it or not. I can eat more than the living skeleton can, and for
a thin man he's got anything stopped for appetite that I ever
saw," answered Teddy Tucker, scrambling to his feet and starting
for the cook tent.

Yes; Teddy Tucker and Phil Forrest are the same boys who, two
seasons before, began their circus career by joining a road show,
each in a humble capacity. It will be remembered how in "THE
CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS," Teddy and Phil quickly rose to
be performers in the ring; how Phil, by his coolness and bravery,
saved the life of one of the performers at the imminent risk of
losing his own; how he saved the circus from a great pecuniary
loss, as well as distinguishing himself in various other ways.

laurels in their chosen career, when Phil became a bareback
rider, scoring a great hit at his first performance. It will be
recalled too, how the circus lad proved himself a real hero at
the wreck of the dining car, saving the lives of several persons,
finally being himself rescued by his companion, Teddy Tucker.

The Great Sparling Combined Shows had been on the road a week,
and by this time the various departments had gotten down to
fairly good working order, for, no matter how perfect such an
organization may be, it requires several days for the show people
to become used to working together. This extends even to the
canvasmen and roustabouts. After being a few weeks out they are
able to set the tents in from half an hour to an hour less time
than it takes during the first two or three stands of the season.

The next stand was to be Edmeston, the home of the two
Circus Boys. The lads were looking forward with keen
expectation to the moment when, clad in tights and spangles,
they would appear before their old school fellows in a
series of daring aerial flights.

The lads had spent the winter at school and now only one year
more was lacking to complete their course at the high school that
they had been attending between circus seasons, practicing in
their gymnasium after school hours.

"I'd like to invite all the boys of our class to come to the show
on passes. Do you suppose Mr. Sparling would let me?"

"I am afraid you had better not ask him," laughed Phil. "If you
were running a store do you think you would ask the crowd to come
over and help themselves to whatever they wanted?"

"Well, no-o."

"I thought not."

"But this is different."

"Not so much so. It would be giving away seats that could be
sold and that probably will be sold. No; I guess the boys had
better pay for their seats."

Teddy looked disappointed.

"Don't you think it is worth fifty cents to see us perform?"
queried Phil.

Teddy grinned broadly. The idea appealed to him in a new light.

"That's so. I guess it's worth more than fifty cents, at that.
I guess I don't care if they do have to pay, but I want them to
come to the show. What do you suppose I've been working two
years for, if it wasn't to show off before the fellows?
Haven't you?"


"What then?"

"Why, what do you think?"

"I don't think. It's too hot to think this morning."

"All right. Wait till someday when the weather is cooler; then
think the matter over," laughed Phil, hurrying on toward where
breakfast was waiting for them in the cook tent.

The lads were performing the same acts in which they had
appeared the previous season; that is, doing the flying rings
as a team, while Phil was a bareback rider and Teddy a tumbler.
Something had happened to the bucking mule that Teddy had
ridden for two seasons, and the manager had reluctantly been
forced to take this act from his bill.

"I'm thinking of getting another mule for you, if we can pick up
such a thing," said Mr. Sparling at breakfast that morning.

Teddy's eyes twinkled. He had in mind a surprise for the
manager, but was not quite ready to tell of his surprise yet.
All during the winter the lad had been working with a donkey that
he had picked up near Edmeston. His training of the animal had
been absolutely in secret, so that none of his school fellows,
save Phil, knew anything about it.

"All right," answered Teddy carelessly. "Wait till we get to
Edmeston and see what we can pick up there."

Mr. Sparling bent a shrewd, inquiring glance on the impassive
face of the Circus Boy. If he suspected Teddy had something in
mind that he was not giving voice to, Mr. Sparling did not
mention it. By this time he knew both boys well enough to form a
pretty clear idea when there was anything of a secret nature in
the wind.

"We'll never get another mule like Jumbo," he sighed.

"Hope not," answered Teddy shortly.

"Why not?"

" 'Cause, I don't want to break my neck this season, at least
not till after we've passed Edmeston and the fellows have
seen perform."

"So that's it, is it?"

"It is. I'm going to show myself tomorrow, and I don't care who
knows it."

"If I remember correctly you already have shown yourself pretty
thoroughly all the way across the continent."

"And helped fill the big top at the same time," added Teddy, with
a shrewd twinkle in his eyes.

Mr. Sparling laughed outright.

"I guess you have a sharp tongue this morning."

"I don't mean to have."

"It's all right. I accept your apology. What's this you say
about the fellows--whom do you mean?"

"He means our class at the high school," Phil informed
the showman.

"Oh, yes. How many are there in the class?"

"Let me see--how many are there, Teddy?"

"Thirty or forty, not counting the fat boy who's the anchor in
the tug of war team. If you count him there are five more."

"I presume they'll all be wanting to come to the show?"
questioned Mr. Sparling.

"Any fellow who doesn't come is no friend of mine."

"That's the way to talk. Always have the interest of the show in
mind, and you'll get along," smiled the owner.

"We-e-l-l," drawled the lad. "I wasn't just thinking about the
interest of the show. I was thinking more about what a figure
I'd be cutting before the boys."

Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.

"You are honest at any rate, Master Teddy. That's one thing
I like about you. When you tell me a thing I do not have to
go about asking others to make sure that you have told me
the truth."

"Why shouldn't I? I'm not afraid of you."

"No; that's the worst of it. I should like to see something you
really are afraid of."

"I know what he is afraid of," smiled Phil maliciously.

"What?" demanded Mr. Sparling.

"He is afraid of the woman snake charmer under the black top.
He's more afraid of her than he is of the snakes themselves.
Why, you couldn't get him to shake hands with her if you were
to offer him an extra year's salary. There she is over there
now, Teddy."

Teddy cast an apprehensive glance at the freak table, where
the freaks and side show performers were laughing and chatting
happily, the Lady Snake Charmer sandwiched in between the
Metal-faced Man and Jo-Jo the Dog-faced Wonder.

"I've been thinking of an idea, Mr. Sparling," said Teddy by way
of changing the subject.

Phil glanced at him apprehensively, for Teddy's ideas were
frequently attended by consequences of an unpleasant nature.

"Along the usual line young man?"

"Well, no."

"What is your idea?"

"I've been thinking that I should like to sign up as a dwarf for
the rest of the season and sit on the concert platform in the
menagerie tent. It wouldn't interfere with my other
performance," said Teddy in apparent seriousness.

Mr. Sparling leaned back, laughing heartily.

"Why, you are not a dwarf."

"No-o-o. But I might be."

"How tall are you?"

"A little more than five feet," answered the lad with a touch of
pride in his tone.

"You are almost a man. Why, Teddy, you are a full twenty inches
taller than the tallest dwarf in the show."

Teddy nodded.

"Don't you see you could not possibly be a`dwarf?"

"Oh, yes, I could. All the more reason why I could."

"What kind of a dwarf would you be, may I ask?"

"I could be the tallest dwarf on earth, couldn't I?" asked Teddy,
gazing at his employer innocently.

Everyone at the table broke out into a merry peal of laughter,
while Teddy Tucker eyed them sadly for a moment; then he too
added his laughter to theirs.

"If you were not already getting a pretty big salary for a kid,
I'd raise your salary for that," exploded Mr. Sparling.

"You can forget I'm getting so much, if you want to," suggested
Teddy humorously.



"Hey, Phil!"

"What is it, Teddy?"

"Wake up! We are in the old town again."

Phil Forrest pulled aside the curtain and peered out from his
berth into the railroad yards, the bright May sunshine flooding
the old familiar scenes at Edmeston. Far off he could just make
out the red brick chimney of his Uncle Abner's home.

What recollections it brought back to Phil Forrest--recollections
that went back still further to a sweet face and laughing eyes
his mother!

Phil dropped the curtain and lay face down in the pillow for
a moment.

"I say, Phil."

"What is it?" demanded the lad in a muffled voice.

"Guess who's out there?"

"I don't know."

"The gang's out there."


"The gang. The whole high school crowd."


"They're looking for us. Lucky we're on the last section, for
if it was dark, we couldn't make much of a splurge getting off
the train. Aren't you going to get up?"


Phil slowly pulled himself from his berth, then began drawing on
his clothes. Teddy was already up and nearly dressed, full of
expectation of what was before him. For Phil there was something
that tinged his joy with sadness, though he could not make up his
mind why it should be so. His reverie was broken in upon by the
voice of Teddy Tucker.

"Come, hurry up!"

"I am all ready now," answered Phil. "Have you washed?"

"You bet. I always wash the first thing in the morning."

Together the Circus Boys stepped out on the platform.
There, lined up by the side of the track, were their
companions and school fellows waiting to welcome them.

The high school boys uttered a shout when they espied Phil
and Teddy.

"How'dy, fellows!" greeted Teddy, posing on the car platform for
a moment, that they might gaze upon him admiringly.

Phil was already on the ground, hurrying toward the boys with
both hands outstretched. A moment more and the two lads had been
grabbed by their schoolmates and literally overwhelmed, while a
crowd of villagers stood off against a pile of lumber, laughing
and calling out greetings to the Circus Boys.

Phil and Teddy, as soon as they were able to get away, hurried to
the circus lot for their breakfast. There they found a great
crowd of people whom they knew, and for a few minutes they were
kept busy shaking hands, after which the boys with faces wreathed
in smiles, proudly entered the cook tent. Teddy glanced up
quizzically when they got inside.

"Well I guess we're some, eh, Phil?"

"I guess so. I hope everything goes all right today. I should
die of mortification if anything were to happen to our acts.
You want to keep your mind right on your work today. Don't pay
any attention to the audience. Remember a whole lot of people
are coming to this show today just because they are interested
in you and me."

"I guess I know how to perform," sputtered Teddy.

"I haven't said you do not. I know you do, but I don't want you
to forget that you do."

"Look out for yourself. I'll take care of myself,"
growled Teddy.

"I'm going to."

Having finished their breakfast the boys started for the
village, to call on Mrs. Cahill, their guardian and the
custodian of their earnings. As they were leaving the
grounds, Phil paused suddenly.

"Look there," he said, pointing to Mr. Sparling's office tent.

"Well, if it isn't Billy Ford, the president of our class,"
breathed Teddy. "I didn't see him at the train when we came in
this morning; did you?"

"No. He wasn't there."

"Now, what do you suppose he is doing in Mr. Sparling's tent?"

"I haven't the least idea unless he is trying to find out where
we are. Hey, Billy!"

Billy Ford paused at the sound of the familiar call; then the
Circus Boys hurried toward him. Billy went suddenly red in the
face as if he were very much embarrassed.

"What you doing in there?" demanded Teddy.

"Why--why--perhaps I was trying to join the show,"
stammered Billy.

"We wouldn't have you. You and I couldn't travel in the
same show. They'd fire us both."

"Why?" questioned Billy, now regaining his presence of mind.

" 'Cause, between us we'd put the show out of business."

"I believe you would," nodded Phil.

"Where you going, boys?"

"Mrs. Cahill's."

"Then I'll walk down that way with you. What time do you get
through at night?"

"We finish our last act about ten o'clock," answered Phil.

"Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to know."

Phil shot a swift, suspicious glance at the schoolboy, but
Billy's face bore an expression as serene as the May morning
of that very day.

Mr. Sparling hailed the lads as they were leaving the lot.

"You may be excused from parade today, both of you. You no doubt
will want to spend all the time you can with your friends."

"Thank you," smiled Phil. "There's the finest man a fellow ever
worked for."

"Worked? Do you call performing in a circus work?"

"Well, at least it is a pretty good imitation of work, Billy."

"I used to think just like you do," added Teddy rather ruefully.

"Is it really work then?"

"Oh, no; it's just play. Come to the show and you will see
us play."

"By the way," inquired Phil, "the fellows are all coming this
afternoon, I suppose?"

"Yes, but not this afternoon."



"That will be fine. We have a short run tonight, so the boss
will not be in any hurry to move the show. You'll see it all."

"Why, don't you always give it all?"

"No. Sometimes, when the weather is bad, or when we have a
long run before us, Mr. Sparling cuts some of the acts out
entirely, and shortens others. But, of course, the audience
doesn't know this."

"Is that so?" wondered the surprised Billy.

"Yes. Are you boys all going to sit together?"

"Yes. We'll be where we can see you. And the girls are going
to be there, too. I reckon the whole school will be on hand."

"How about Uncle Abner--will he go to the show, do you think?"

"I know where you'll find him," spoke up Teddy.


"You'll find him hiding behind the hen house watching the parade
go by. He won't dare show himself after the way the clowns had
fun with him when the show was here before."

"Poor Uncle Abner! I must go over and see him after we have
called on Mrs. Cahill."

Arriving at Mrs. Cahill's, they found her out in the yard,
arrayed in her best dress in honor of their coming, and it was
a joyful meeting between the three. In a short time, however,
Teddy grew restless and decided that he would wander about town
and call on his other friends.

"I'll tell you what let's do, Teddy," suggested Phil.


"You come back before parade time and we three will sit on the
front door step and watch the parade go by, just as we used to
do before we went into the show business. I'll run over to see
Uncle Abner in the meantime, and we will both be back here by
half-past ten. The parade will not get along before then."

"Yes, do, boys," urged Mrs. Cahill. "I'll have a lunch for you
after the parade. You will like that, will you not?"

"I should say we shall," laughed Phil. "But, I had rather
thought you might like to eat with us under the circus tent."

"Oh, my, my! Eat with the circus?"

"Not with the animals, he doesn't mean," corrected Teddy.
"He means we should like to have you eat with we performers."

"Yes, with the performers," grinned Phil.

"Can I eat there with you just as well after the
afternoon performance?"


"Then we will have our noon meal here. I have some fresh
molasses cookies already baked for you."

"Cookies?" Teddy's eyes brightened.

"Yes; do you want some now?"

"I always want cookies. Never knew a time when I didn't. I want
'em when I'm awake, and I want 'em when I'm asleep."

He got a double handful in short order.

"Well, I'm off!" announced Teddy.

"How about the parade? Will you come back and see it from here?"

"Yes; I guess that would be some fun. I can make faces at the
other performers who have to work. Yes; I'll come back."

"Don't forget about the donkey," called Phil. "When are you
going to take him over to the horse tent?"

"I'm not going to give myself away by leading that fright through
the streets. I've fixed it with one of the hostlers to smuggle
him over to the stable tent," grinned Teddy.

"Taking him in this afternoon?"

"Not I. Saving that for a grand surprise tonight. What are you
going to do to surprise the fellows?"

"I hadn't thought. Nothing quite so sensational as your feat
will be, I guess," laughed Phil.

In the course of an hour both lads had returned to Mrs. Cahill's
humble home. But while they were away from the show grounds, the
owner of the show, without the knowledge of the lads, had paid a
visit to the principal of the school and was back on the lot in
time to head the parade when it finally started.

"Kinder wish I had gone in the parade," regretted Teddy.


"Good place to show off."

"You have a much better one."


"In the ring. Anybody can ride a horse in a parade, but not
everyone can perform on the flying rings and leap over elephants
to boot."

Teddy instinctively threw out his chest.

"You're right, at that. Hark!"

"Yes; they are coming. I can hear Billy English blow the
big bass horn. You could hear him over three counties, I
really believe."

Laughing and chatting, the boys settled themselves on Mrs.
Cahill's hospitable doorstep to await the arrival of the parade
which could be heard far off on the other side of the village.

Now and then the high, metallic notes of the calliope rose
above all the rest, bringing a glint of pride to the eyes of
Teddy Tucker.

"I just love that steam music machine."

"Well, I must say that I do not admire your taste," laughed Phil.
"It's the most hideous discord of noises I ever heard. I never
did like the steam piano, but a circus wouldn't be a circus
without it."

"Nope," agreed Teddy with emphasis.

Down the street a gorgeously colored rainbow slowly reached
around a bend and began straightening away toward the
Cahill home. The parade was approaching.

As the gay procession drew nearer the boys began to evince some
of the enthusiasm that they had known before they themselves had
become a part of the big show.

"Remember the parade two years ago, Phil?" asked Mrs. Cahill.

"I could not very well forget it. That was a red letter day in
my life, the day when I fell into the show business."

"And that wasn't all you fell in either," added Teddy.

"What else did I fall in?"

"In a ditch when you stopped the runaway pony."

Phil did not laugh. He was thinking.

"That was a lucky fall, too."


"Because it was the means of giving you and me our start in the
circus business."

"Hurrah! Here they come. Now see me make faces at them when
they go by," said Teddy.

The Cahill home was near the outskirts of the village, and as the
golden chariot of the band, glistening in the bright morning
sunlight, approached, the lads could not repress an exclamation
of delight.

"I used to think the band wagon was solid gold," breathed Teddy.

"When did you find out differently?"

"That day, two years ago, when I scraped off some of the gold
with my knife and found it was nothing but wood," grunted Teddy
in a disgusted tone.

"What is that band wagon trying to do?" demanded Phil suddenly.

"Guess they are going to turn around," said Teddy.

The six white horses attached to the band wagon slowly drew out
of the line just before reaching the Cahill home, and pointed
toward the roadside fence. The boys could not understand what
the move meant. An instant later the leaders straightened out
and began moving along the side of the road close to the fence.

They slowly drew up to the door yard, coming to a stop at the
far end of it.

"Wha--wha--" stammered Teddy.

"They are going to serenade us," cried Phil. "That's Mr.
Sparling all over. What do you think of that, Mrs. Cahill?
You never were serenaded by a circus band before, were you?"

"N-n-no," answered the widow, a little tremulously.

The band wagon drew up a few feet further, coming to a stop again
just to the left of the dooryard gate, so as not to interfere
with the party's view of the parade.

"There's Mr. Sparling," shouted Phil, as the owner in his
handsome carriage drawn by four black horses, came abreast
of the yard.

Both boys sprang up and cheered him in their enthusiasm, to which
the showman responded by taking off his hat, while the band
struck up "Yankee Doodle."

It was a glorious moment for the Circus Boys, and they were
even more surprised and gratified by what followed a few
moments later.



While the band played, the clown wagon came to a halt and
the whole body of funny men sang a song in front of Mrs.
Cahill's house, while the widow and her two young guests
applauded enthusiastically.

As the clown's wagon drew on, a horse ridden by a young woman was
seen dashing straight at the dooryard fence, which it took in a
graceful leap, causing the Widow Cahill to gasp her amazement.
The rider was none other than Little Dimples, the star bareback
rider of the Sparling Shows, who had chosen this way to pay
homage to her young associates and to Mrs. Cahill as well.

It was an unusual procedure in a circus parade, but though it had
been arranged by Mr. Sparling out of the kindness of his heart,
he shrewdly reasoned that it would make good business for the
show as well. That the people lined up along the street agreed
with his reasoning was evidenced by their shouts of applause.

"Mrs. Cahill, this is our very good friend, Mrs. Robinson,
otherwise known as Little Dimples," announced Phil proudly.

Mrs. Cahill bowed and smiled, not the least bit embarrassed.

"You haven't introduced my pony, Phil. The pony is part of
little me, you know."

"I beg pardon, Mrs. Cahill; let me introduce to you Mrs.
Robinson's pony, Cinders, who, though he cannot talk, comes
pretty close to it," said Phil, with great dignity.

Cinders bowed and bowed, the bits rattling against his teeth
until it sounded to the little gathering as if he were trying
to chatter his pleasure at the introduction.

"Now, shake hands with Mrs. Cahill, Cinders," directed
Little Dimples.

Cinders extended a hoof, which Mrs. Cahill touched gingerly.
She was not used to shaking hands with horses. Teddy and Phil,
however, each grasped the pony's extended foot, giving it a good
shake, after which Phil thrust a lump of sugar into the waiting
lips of Cinders.

"Naughty boy!" chided Little Dimples, tapping the neck of her
mount with the little riding crop she carried. "You would spoil
him in no time. I must be going, now. I hope we shall see you
at the show this afternoon, Mrs. Cahill," smiled Dimples, her
face breaking out into dimples and smiles.

The widow nodded.

"This afternoon and tonight. She is going to dine with us under
the cook tent this afternoon," Phil informed the rider.

"That will be fine."

Dimples nodded, tossed her whip in the air and clucking to
Cinders, went bounding over the fence. A moment more and she
had taken her place in the line and was moving along with the
procession, bowing and smiling.

"That's what I call right fine," glowed Mrs. Cahill. "Did you
say that little thing was Mrs. Robinson?"


"Why, she looks like a young girl."

"That's what I thought when I first saw her. But she has a son
as old as I am."

"Land sakes!" wondered Mrs. Cahill. "You never can tell about
these circus folks, anyhow."

Phil laughed heartily, but Teddy was too much interested in what
was going on outside the fence to indulge in laughter. The band
was still playing as if its very existence depended upon keeping
up the noise, while the white horses attached to the band wagon
were frantically seeking to get their heads down for a nibble of
the fresh green grass at the side of the road.

"There come the bulls," called Teddy.

"Yes, I see them."

"The bulls?" wondered Mrs. Cahill. "I didn't know they had bulls
in the circus."

"That's what the show people call the elephants," laughed Phil.
"Teddy is talking show-talk now. We have a language of our own."

"I should say you do?" grumbled the widow.

"What's the bull in front got on his trunk, Phil?"

Phil shaded his eyes and gazed off down the street.

"That's my friend Emperor. I don't know what it is he
is carrying. That's queer. I never saw him carrying
anything in parade before, did you?"


For a moment both lads directed their attention to making out
what it was that Emperor was carrying along.

"It looks to me like a basket of flowers," finally decided Phil.

"Has somebody been handing him a bouquet," grunted Teddy.

"It certainly looks that way."

"Why, I really believe he is coming in here."

"Coming here--an elephant coming into my front yard? Mercy me!"
exclaimed Mrs. Cahill, starting up.

"Why, Mrs. Cahill, Emperor wouldn't hurt a little baby. I hope
he does come in. Sit still. Don't be afraid."

"He'll spoil my flower beds--he'll trample them all down and
after I've worked four weeks getting--"

"Yes; here he comes," exulted Phil.

At that moment Emperor, with his trainer, Mr. Kennedy, swung out
of line and entered the garden gate. Turning to the left they
headed directly across the lawn. The precious flower beds lay
right in his path.

"Oh, my flowers! They're ruined," moaned the widow.

"Watch him and you'll see," answered Phil, his face wreathed
in smiles.

She did, and her eyes opened wider when Emperor cautiously raised
one ponderous foot after another until he had stepped clear of
the first bed of flowers. The same thing happened when he got to
the second bed. Not even the imprint of his footfalls was left
on the fresh green grass of the lawn.

Mrs. Cahill's eyes were large and wondering. A sudden impulse
stirred her to spring up and flee into the house.

Phil, noting it, laid a restraining hand lightly, on her arm.

"Don't be afraid," he reassured. "Emperor will not harm you.
You see how careful he is of your lawn and your flower beds.
I think he is coming here for some purpose."

Emperor and his trainer came to a half right in front of the
porch, the elephant's little eyes fixed upon the slender form
of Phil Forrest.

"Good boy, Emperor!" breathed Phil. "Did somebody present a
basket of flowers to you?"

It was a big basket, and such a handsome collection of
flowers did it contain as to cause Mrs. Cahill to open her
eyes in wonder. A card was tied to the handle of the basket
with a big pink ribbon. Phil began to understand the meaning
of the scene, and he felt sure the name on the card was that
of Mrs. Cahill.

A low spoken command from the trainer, and Emperor cautiously got
down on his knees, keeping those small eyes on Phil Forrest all
the time.

"Mrs. Cahill, Emperor has been commissioned by the Great Sparling
Combined Shows to present a basket of flowers to you in the name
of Mr. Sparling himself, and the show people, too. He has
carried it all the way from the lot this morning," declared
Mr. Kennedy.

The people on the street were now pressing closer, in order
to see what was going to happen. Phil was smiling broadly,
while Teddy was hugging himself with delight at Mrs.
Cahill's nervousness.

"Emperor, give the flowers to the lady," commanded the trainer.

Slowly, the big elephant's trunk stretched out, extending the
basket toward her inch by inch, while the widow instinctively
shrank far back in her chair.

At last the trunk reached her.

"Take it," said Phil.

She grasped the basket with a muttered, "thank you."

"Say good-bye, Emperor," directed the trainer.

Emperor curled his trunk on high, coughed mightily, then rising
on his hind legs until he stood almost as high as the widow's
cottage, he uttered a wild, weird trumpeting that fairly shook
the house.

Mrs. Cahill, in her fright, suddenly started back, her chair
tipped over and she landed in a heap on the ground at the end
of the porch.



The afternoon performance had passed without a hitch.
While there were many town people there the greater part
of the audience, which nearly filled the big tent, was
composed of visitors from the country.

Great applause greeted the performances of Phil Forrest and
Teddy Tucker, but the two Circus Boys were saving their best
efforts for the evening performance when all their friends
would be present.

Mrs. Cahill, after her tumble, had been picked up by the lads
who insisted that she shake the trunk of Emperor before he left
the lawn. And now that she had seen the afternoon show, taking
a motherly pride in the performance of her boys, as she proudly
called them, the kindhearted woman sat down to a meal in the
cook tent, which proved one of the most interesting experiences
of her life.

As the hour for the evening performance approached there was an
unusual bustle in the dressing tent. By this time the whole show
had taken a keen interest in the affairs of the Circus Boys, who
had been known to the performers--at least, to most of them--for
the past two years.

Teddy had paid sundry mysterious visits to the horse tent, and
held numerous confidential conversations with the equestrian
director, all of which was supposed to have been unknown to
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show.

But, while Teddy was nursing his secret, Mr. Sparling also was
keeping one of his own, one which was to be a great surprise to
the two Circus Boys.

The first surprise was given when the clowns came out for their
first entry. Lining up in front of the reserved seats, where
the high school boys and girls sat, they sang a song in which
they brought in the names of every member of Phil's class.
This elicited roars of laughter from the spectators, while
the school boys and girls waved their crimson and white class
flags wildly.

The whole class was there as the guests of the management of
the show. This was one of Mr. Sparling's surprises, but not
the only one he was to give them that night.

Next came the leaping act, somersaulting from a springboard and
in the end jumping over the herd of elephants. Teddy was so
effectively disguised by his clown makeup that, for some time,
the class did not recognize him. When finally they did, through
some familiar gesture of his own, the boys and girls set up a
perfect howl of delight in which the audience joined with
enthusiastic applause, for Teddy, with all his clumsy ways,
was one of the best tumblers in the show. He had developed
marvelously since the close of the show the fall before.

Never had Teddy tumbled as he did that night. He took so many
chances that Mr. Sparling, who was on the side lines, shouted a
word of caution to him.

"You'll break your neck, if you're not careful."

In answer to the warning, Teddy took a long running start and
did a double turn in the air, over the backs of the elephants,
landing plump into the waiting arms of a bevy of painted clowns,
the spectators evincing their appreciation by shouting out
Teddy's name.

Teddy's chest swelled with pride as he waved his hand and shook
his head as if to say: "Oh, that's nothing! You ought to see me
when I'm really working."

The band played on and the show moved along with a merry medley
of daring deeds and furious fun from the clowns.

At last, in response to the command of the ringmaster's whistle,
the band ceased playing and silence fell over the tent as the
ringmaster raised his hand for silence.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said. "The next act will be a
bareback riding feat unexcelled in any show in the world.
In ring No. 1 the famous equestrienne, Little Dimples, will
entertain you with her Desperate, Daring Dips of Death that
defy imitation. In ring No. 2 you will recognize a fellow
townsman--a townsboy, I should say. It will not be necessary
for me to mention his name. Suffice it to say that, although
he has been riding for less than a year, he has already risen
to the enviable position of being one of the foremost bareback
riders of the sawdust arena. I think that's all I have to say.
Your friends will do the rest."

The ringmaster waved his hand to the band, which instantly blared
forth and to its music Phil Forrest tripped lightly down the
concourse, being obliged to go three-fourths of its length to
get to the ring where he was to perform.

His journey led him right past the grandstand seats where his
admiring school fellows were sitting, or rather standing. As a
matter of fact, every one of them had risen to his feet by this
time and was shouting out Phil's name.

As he drew nearer they began to chant, keeping time with his
footsteps and the music of the band:

"Phil, Phil--Phillip F! Rah, rah! Siss-boom-ah!"

The Circus Boy grinned happily and waved his whip at them as
he passed.

"I hope I won't make a fool of myself," he thought.

He had no intention of doing so. He had a few tricks that he was
going to show his friends, and incidentally surprise Mr. Sparling
himself, for Phil, who now owned his own ring horse, had been
practicing in secret all winter on the act that he was going to
attempt for the first time in public that evening.

Discarding his slippers and chalking the bottoms of his riding
pumps, Phil began his act by riding standing on the rump of
his mount, to get his equilibrium and his confidence at the
same time.

Then the lad began throwing himself into his work, which
increased in speed as the moments passed, until his supple,
slender body was flashing here and there on the back of the
handsome gray, causing the eyes of the spectators fairly to ache
in their efforts to keep track of him.

The people voiced their excitement by yells of approval and howls
of delight.

"My, but that boy can ride!" muttered Mr. Sparling, who had been
watching the act critically. "In fact, I should like to know
what he cannot do. If he had to do so, he could run this show
fully as well as can I--and perhaps better at that," added the
showman, with a grin.

Now the band struck up the music for the concluding number of
the act.

"I wonder what he has up his sleeve," mused Mr. Sparling
shrewdly, suspecting that Phil was about to try something he had
never done in the ring before. "I hope he won't take any long
chances, for I can't afford to have anything happen to my little
star performer."

As a matter of fact both Phil and Teddy Tucker had become star
performers, and were so featured on the circus bills, where
their pictures had been placed for this, their third season out.
The year before they had appeared on the small bills in the shop
windows, but now they had the satisfaction of seeing themselves
portrayed in life-size on the big boards.

Phil sent his ring horse forward at a lively gait, which grew
faster and faster, as he sat lightly on the animal's rump, urging
it along.

All at once he bounded to his feet, poised an instant, then threw
himself into a succession of handsprings until he resembled a
whirling pink and gold wheel.

This was a new act in the circus world, and such of the other
performers as were under the big top at the moment paused to
watch it.

No one was more surprised than Mr. Sparling himself. He knew
what a difficult feat it was that the Circus Boy had not only
essayed, but succeeded in doing. Phil kept it up at such length,
and with such stubborn persistence, that the owner of the show
feared lest the lad, in his dizziness might get a bad fall.

Doing a series of such rapid handsprings on the level ground is
calculated to make a performer's head swim. But how much more
difficult such an effort is on the slippery back of a moving
horse may well be imagined.

Finally, red of face, panting, breathless, Phil Forrest alighted
on his feet, well back on the ring horse's rump.

"Be ready to catch me," he gasped.

The ringmaster understood.

Phil urged his horse to a run about the sawdust arena.

"Now, what's that fool boy going to do?" wondered Mr. Sparling.

All at once Phil Forrest threw himself up into the air, his body
doubling like a ball as he did so.

One--two--three times he whirled about in his marvelous
backward somersault.

"Let go your tuck!" commanded the ringmaster, meaning that Phil
was to release the grip of his hands which were holding his legs
doubled close against his body.

The lad quickly straightened up, spreading his arms to steady
himself in his descent. Fortunately he was dropping feet first,
due to his instant obedience of the ringmaster's order.

Perhaps that alone saved the Circus Boy from breaking his neck,
for so dizzy was he that he was unable to tell whether he was
dropping feet or head first.

He alighted on his feet and the ringmaster caught him deftly.

"Stand steady a minute, till you get your bearings, Phil."

Phil needed that moment to steady himself, for the big top seemed
to be whirling about on a pivot.

Now he began dimly to hear the thunders of applause that greeted
his really wonderful performance.

"Can you stand alone now?"

"I think so," came the faint reply that was instantly drowned in
the great uproar.

But the lad wavered a little after the ringmaster had released
his grip. Steadying himself quickly, Phil pulled on his slippers
and walked slowly from the ring, dizzy, but happy with the shouts
of his school fellows ringing in his ears.

He heard the voice of Mr. Sparling close by him, saying:

"Great, great, my boy! Finest exhibition ever seen in a
sawdust ring!"

Phil tripped proudly past the grandstand seats, where the boys
were howling like a pack of wild Indians.

But just then something else occurred to attract their attention.

A donkey, long-eared, long-haired, dirty and unkempt trotted into
the ring and spun about like a top for a full minute.

On the ludicrous-looking beast's back sat a boy in the makeup of
a blackface clown. In his mouth was a harmonica, that he played
lustily, as he sat facing to the rear with his back toward the
donkey's head.

At that moment something else was observable. Instead of
traveling head first, as any self-respecting donkey is supposed
to do, this particular donkey was walking backwards. Yes, he was
galloping backwards.

The instant the audience noted that, their cheers changed to
howls of delight. The clown was Teddy Tucker, and the donkey
was the surprise he had been storing up for this very occasion.
While the audience laughed and jeered, Mr. Sparling looked on in
surprise not unmixed with amazement. Here was the very thing he
had been looking for, but had been unable thus far to find.

"It's a winner!" he cried, as Teddy Tucker and his strange mount
ambled by him in a gait such as never had been seen in a sawdust
arena before.

Right around the arena traveled boy and donkey. When opposite
the grandstand seats, where the high school students were
sitting, Teddy nearly drove them wild by drawing out the class
colors which he had been hiding under his coat.

In a shrill, high-pitched voice he gave utterance to the high
school class yell, which was instantly taken up by the class and
eventually by the spectators themselves, until all seemed near
the verge of hysterics.

Phil, instead of proceeding directly to the dressing tent, had
waited by the bandstand to watch the new act of his companion,
and he, with others of the performers, was laughing heartily as
he leaned against the bandstand. Teddy knew he made a funny
appearance, but just how ludicrous he could have little idea.

"Whose donkey is that?" demanded Mr. Sparling, hurrying up just
as Phil and the other circus folks were congratulating the lad.

"He's mine," rejoined Teddy.

"Where did you get him?"

"I bought him. Think I stole him? Been training him all winter.
Like him?"

"It's a great comedy act. He's engaged. Turn him over to the
superintendent of ring stock and tell him to make a place on the
train for the brute."

"I've already done so."

"Oh, you have, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Anybody would think you owned this show, the way you give orders
around here."

"I'm willing, and so's the donkey," grinned Teddy.

"For what---to go on at every performance?"

"No; to own the show. We're going on right along, anyway.

"Hopeless!" muttered Sparling, shaking his head.



"Hurry up, Teddy!"

"What for?"

"Billy Ford is waiting for us out in the paddock."

"Oh, is that so? What does he want?"

"He's going to walk to the train with us, he says."

"That's good. I wonder if any of the other fellows will
be along?"

"No; I think not. I asked him if he were alone, and he said
he was."

"We might give him a feed in the accommodation car,"
suggested Teddy.

"No; you and I are going to bed right quick after we get back to
the train. I, for one, am tired after this strenuous day."

"It has been lively, hasn't it?"

"It has," answered Phil, laying special emphasis on the "has."

"Say, young man, where did you get that freak donkey?" demanded
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, approaching at that moment.

"Drew him in a prize package of chewing gum," called one of
the performers.

"Where did you get him, anyway?" called another.

"You seem to know all about it, so what's the use of my
telling you?" retorted Teddy.

The lads had finished their work for the day, and nothing now
remained to be done except to disrobe, take a quick scrub down
after their severe exercise, don their clothes and take their
time in getting to the train.

There was plenty of time for this, as their sleeper being on the
third and last section of the circus train, they would not leave
for nearly two hours yet, at the earliest.

The baths of the Circus Boys were more severe than pleasant, and
in taking them each one had to perform a service for the other.
The bath consisted of the performer's standing still while his
companion emptied several buckets of cold water over him,
following it with a liberal smearing of soap and then some more
pailfuls of water.

Once a week, over Sunday, the performers were allowed to sleep
at hotels, providing the circus did not have an all day run.
At such times they were able to enjoy the luxury of a hot bath,
but at other times it was cold water--sometimes colder and more
chilling than at others. Yet, they thrived under it, growing
strong and healthy.

Having once more gotten into their street clothes, refreshed and
rested to a degree that would be scarcely believed after their
severe exercise, both lads repaired to the paddock, where they
found the president of the high school class waiting for them,
interestedly watching the scene of life and color always
observable in the circus paddock, a canvas walled enclosure where
performers and ring stock await the call to enter the ring.

"Here we are, Billy," greeted Phil.

"Oh, so quick?" Billy started guiltily.

"That's the way we always do things," answered Teddy. "Have to
do things on the jump, we circus men do."

"So I see. What are you going to do now?"

"Going to the car, of course. We always go right to the sleeper
after the show. Why?"

"Oh, nothing special. I thought maybe you might like to go
downtown and visit with the boys for a while."

"I should like to do so very much, but I do not think it will
be best. We make it a rule to go straight home, as we call our
car, and I've never broken over that rule yet, Billy."

"Very well, Phil; then I will walk along with you. I guess you
know the way."

"That's more than I do every night," laughed Phil. "It's a
case of getting lost 'most every night, especially in the big
towns, for the cars seldom are found at night where we left
them in the morning."

"I shouldn't like that," objected Billy.

"We don't. But we can't help ourselves."

"Here, where you going?" demanded Teddy suddenly.

"Taking the path across the lot here. It is much shorter,"
replied Billy.

"Oh, all right. I had forgotten about the path."

"I should think you would--"

Phil got no further in his remark. He was interrupted by
President Billy, crying loudly:

"Here we are!"

Instantly fifteen or twenty shadowy forms sprang up from the
grass and hurled themselves upon the Circus Boys.

Taken by surprise as they were, Phil and Teddy gave a good
account of themselves. Shadow after shadow went down under a
good stiff punch, for it must be remembered that both boys were
able to make a handsome living because of the possession of well
trained muscles.

Yet no two men could have stood up for long under the onslaught,
and Phil and Teddy very soon went down with their assailants
piling on top of them.

Up to this point not a word had been spoken, nor did either of
the lads have time to speculate as to who their enemies might be.

"Here, you fellow, get off my neck!" howled Teddy. "Let me get
up and I'll clean up the whole bunch of you two at a time, if
you'll give me half a chance."

No reply was made to this.

"Get the blankets!" commanded a deep voice.

A moment later the two lads were quickly wound in the folds of a
pair of large horse blankets. They were then picked up, none too
gently and borne off to the other side of the field, kicking and
squirming in their efforts to escape.

Their captors, however, did not for an instant relax their hold,
and further struggle proved vain.

Reaching the other side of the field, the Circus Boys were dumped
into a wagon. This they knew because they heard the driver give
the directions regarding letting down the tail board.

Placing their burdens on the wagon floor, the captors very coolly
sat down on the boys. Then the wagon started. Never in the old
days of the road show, when Phil and Teddy were riding and
sleeping in a springless canvas wagon, had they experienced a
rougher ride. It seemed as if every stone in the county had been
placed in the path of the rickety old wagon in which they were
being spirited away.

About this time Phil Forrest began to wonder. He could not
understand the meaning of the attack. And what had become of
President Billy? He knew Teddy was lying beside him, but Billy
must have made his escape. If so Billy would give the alarm, and
the show people would quickly overtake the kidnappers.

No such interruption occurred, however, rather greatly to Phil's
surprise, so he lay still and waited for a favorable moment when
he might take a hand in the affair himself.

Teddy's voice could be heard under his blanket, in muffled, angry
protestations, his feet now and then beating a tattoo on the
wagon bottom. Such an act brought down the weight of his captors
upon the offending feet each time.

Once Teddy managed to work the covering from his mouth for one
brief instant.

"Hey, Rube!" he howled lustily, this being the signal known
to circus men the world over, when one or more of them is
in trouble.

But there were no strong-armed circus men to come to
their rescue. All the circus laborers were working off on
the lot striking the tents and loading the show on the wagons.
Teddy was given no further opportunity to protest.

After a journey of what seemed hours, and during which,
Phil Forrest had lost all sense of direction, the wagon
came to a halt.

He could hear the hum of conversation as his captors consulted in
low tones. Then all at once he found himself jerked from the
wagon and plumped down on the ground.

Teddy went through a similar experience, excepting that his fall
was considerably more severe. Teddy struck the ground with a
jolt that made him utter a loud "Wow!"

He was on his feet in a twinkling, only to find himself pounced
upon and borne heavily to earth again.

Fuming and threatening, Teddy was roughly picked up, Phil being
served likewise.

The boys felt themselves being borne up a short flight of steps
and down a long hall. Then came more steps. This time it was a
long flight of stairs, the kidnappers getting their burdens up
this with evident effort.

"I hope they don't drop me, now," thought Phil. "I shall
surely roll all the way to the bottom, though it might enable
me to get away."

Finally an upper floor was reached. The captors bore their
burdens in and placed them on the floor. The Circus Boys
realized, at the same instant, that the vigilance of the
kidnappers had been relaxed for the second.

Throwing, the blankets off Phil and Teddy leaped to their feet
ready for flight. As they did so they met with the surprise of
their lives.



Teddy had squared off, and was landing sledge-hammer blows on the
empty air.

Phil, too, had squared himself prepared to give battle, but his
hands fell sharply to his sides.

"Wha--what--" he gasped.

"Come on!" bellowed Teddy.

They were in a large room, brilliantly lighted, and about them,
in a semi-circle, was a line of laughing faces. From them the
eyes of the astonished Circus Boys wandered to a long table on
which were flowers and plenty of good things to eat.

"Why, it's our old recitation room in the high school, Teddy,"
breathed Phil.

"I don't care what it is. I can lick the whole outfit!" shouted
Teddy Tucker advancing belligerently.

"It's the boys, Teddy, don't you understand?" laughed Phil.
"Well, of all the ways of inviting a fellow to dinner, this beats
anything I ever saw before."

"How does it feel to be kidnaped?" grinned President Billy,
extending his hand.

"So you are the young gentleman who put up this job on us,
are you?" demanded Phil.

"I guess I am one of them. But I wasn't unlucky enough to get a
black eye, like Walter over there. You gave that to him, Teddy.
My, what a punch you have!" laughed Billy.

"That isn't a circumstance to what's coming to you. I'll wait
till I get back to school, next fall, and then I'll take it out
of you. You'll have something coming to you all summer. Did I
paint Walt's eye that way?"

"You did. It's up to you to apologize to him now."


"Yes; that's what I said."

"I like that! I have a good notion to apologize by painting the
other eye the same color," growled Teddy.

"But, what does all this mean?" urged Phil, looking about him,
still a bit dazed.

"It means that we fellows wanted to give you and Teddy a
little supper. It isn't much, but there are sandwiches and
cookies and pie and lots of other stuff that you'll like."

"Cookies?" interrupted Teddy, his face relaxing into a
half smile.


"We knew you wouldn't come, so we planned to kidnap you both
and bring you over here by main force. After we eat supper
we'll have a little entertainment among ourselves. Walter is
going to sing--"

"What's that? Walt going to sing?" demanded Teddy, halting on
his way to inspect the table.


"Then I'm going, right now!" answered the lad, turning sharply
and heading for the door.

"Why, why--"

"I've heard him sing before. Good night!"

"Come back here," laughed Phil, grabbing his companion
by the shoulder. "We can stand even Walter's singing if
he can. But really, fellows, we can't stay more than
fifteen or twenty minutes."

"Why not?"

"Because we must get to the train. Were we to be left we might
come in for a fine. Mr. Sparling is very strict. He expects
everybody to live up to the rules. I'm sorry, but--"

"It's all fixed, Phil. No need to worry," President Billy
informed him.

"Fixed? What do you mean?"

"With Mr. Sparling."

"You--you told him?"


"See here, Billy Ford," interrupted Teddy.

"What is it, Teddy?"

"Did you say Boss Sparling was in on this little kidnaping game--
did he know you were going to raise roughhouse with--with us?"

"I--I guess he did," admitted President Billy.

"I'll settle with him tomorrow," nodded Teddy, swelling out
his chest.

"Did you tell him you were going to have a supper up here?"
asked Phil.

"He knows all about it. You need not worry about the train going
away without you. Mr. Sparling said you had a short run tonight,
and that the last section would not pull out until three o'clock
in the morning. That's honest Injun, Phil."

"Well, if that is the case, then we'll stay."

"Hurrah for the Circus Boys!" shouted the class, making a rush
for seats at the table.

"Ready for the coffee," announced the President.

Who should come in at that moment, with a steaming coffeepot, but
the Widow Cahill.

"Are you in this, too?" Teddy demanded.

"I am afraid I am," laughed Mrs. Cahill. "The boys needed some
grown-ups to help them out."

"You're no friend of mine, then. I'll--"

"But you are going to have some of those molasses cookies that I
told you I baked for you--"

"Cookies? Where?" exclaimed Teddy, forgetting his
anger instantly.

"Help yourself. There they are."

"It isn't much of a spread," apologized the president. "We have
a little of everything and not much of anything--"

"And a good deal of nothing," added Teddy humorously.

"Everybody eat!" ordered Mrs. Cahill.

They did. Thirty boys with boys' appetites made the home-cooked
spread disappear with marvelous quickness. Each had brought
something from home, and Mrs. Cahill, whom they had taken into
their confidence two days before the Sparling Shows reached
town, had furnished the rest. Everything was cold except the
coffee, but the feasters gave no thought to that. It was food,
and good wholesome food at that, and the lads were doing full
justice to it.

"Say, Phil, that was a wonderful act of yours," nodded
President Billy, while the admiring gaze of the class was
fixed on Phil Forrest.

"I wish I might learn to do that," said Walter.

"You? You couldn't ride a wooden rocking horse without falling
off and getting a black eye," jeered Teddy, at which there was a
shout of laughter.

"Can you?" cut in Phil.

"I can ride anything from a giraffe to a kangaroo--that is, until
I fall off," Teddy added in a lower voice. "I rode a greased pig
at a country fair once. Anybody who can do that, can sit on a
giraffe's neck without slipping off."

"Where was that?" questioned a voice. "I never heard of your
riding a greased pig around these parts."

"I guess that must have been before you were born," retorted
Teddy witheringly.

"Say, Phil," persisted Walter, this time in a confidential tone.


"Do you suppose you could get me a job in the circus?"

"I don't know about that, Walt. What do you think you could do?"

"Well, I can do a cartwheel and--"

"Oh, fudge!" interrupted Teddy.

"That's more than Tucker could do when he joined the show.
Do you know what he did, first of all?" said Phil.

"No; what did he do?" chorused the boys.

"He poured coffee in the cook tent for the thirsty roustabouts.
That's the way he began his circus career."

"I didn't do it more than a day or two," Tucker explained,
rather lamely.

"But you did it!" jeered Walter.

"Then his next achievement was riding the educated mule. I guess
you boys never saw him do that."

"Not until tonight."

"This is different. The other was a bucking mule, and Teddy made
a hit from the first time he entered the ring on Jumbo. He hit
pretty much everything in the show, including the owner himself."
Phil leaned back and laughed heartily at the memory of his
companion's exhibition at this, his first appearance in a circus
ring as a performer.

"No, Walt, I wouldn't advise you to join. Some people are
cut out for the circus life. They never would succeed at
anything else. Teddy and myself for instance. Besides, your
people never would consent to it. You will be a lawyer, or
something great, some of these days, while we shall be cutting
up capers in the circus ring at so much per caper. It's a
wonderful life but you keep out of it," was Phil Forrest's
somewhat illogical advice.

"How far are you going this year?" asked one of the boys.

"I can't say. I understand we are going south--to Dixie Land for
the last half of the season. I think we are headed for Canada,
just now, swinging around the circuit as it were. Isn't it about
time we were getting back to the train, Teddy?"

"No, I guess not. I haven't eaten up all the cookies yet.
Please pass the cookies, you fellow up there at the head of
the table."

"We shall have our little entertainment before you fellows go to
your sleeper. We reckon Phil Forrest and Teddy Tucker ought to
do some stunts for us. Isn't that so?" asked President Billy.

"Yes," shouted the boys.

"What, after a meal like that? I couldn't think of it,"
laughed Phil. "Never perform on a full stomach unless you want
to take chances. It might do you up for good."

"Well, it won't hurt Teddy to be funny. Do something
funny, Teddy."

Teddy looked up soulfully as he munched a cookie.

"Costs money to see me act funny," he said.

"Go on; go on!" urged the boys. "You never showed us any of your
tricks except what you did in the ring this evening."

"Do you know, it's a funny thing, but I never can be funny
unless there is a crop of new-mown sawdust under my feet,"
remarked Teddy.

"Nothing very funny about that!" growled a voice at the further
end of the table.

Teddy fixed him with a reproving eye.

"Very well, but you'll be sorry. I will now present to you the
giddiest, gladdest, gayest, grandest, gyrating, glamorous and
glittering galaxy--as the press agent says--that ever happened."

Teddy, who sat at the extreme end of the table, placed both hands
carelessly on the table, then drew his body up by slow degrees,
until a moment later as his body seemed to unfold, he was doing
a hand stand right on the end of the supper table.

The boys shouted with delight and Teddy kicked his feet in
the air.

"Go on! Don't stop," urged the lads.

"You'll be wishing I had stopped before I began," retorted the
lad, starting to walk on his hands right down the center of
the table.

There were dishes in the way, but this did not disturb Tucker in
the least. He merely pushed them aside, some rolling off on the
floor and breaking, others falling into the laps of the boys.

"Here, here, what are you doing?" called Phil.

"This is what I call the topsy-turvy walk."

Teddy paused when halfway down the table, to let his mouth down
to the table, where he had espied another cookie. When he pulled
himself up, the cookie was between his lips, and the boys roared
at the ludicrous sight.

Then, the lad who was walking on his hands, continued right on.
He was nearing the foot of the table when something occurred that
changed the current of their thoughts, sending the heart of every
boy pounding in his throat.


It seemed as if the roof had been suddenly hurled down upon
their heads.

Teddy instantly fell off the table, tumbling into the laps of two
of the boys, the three going down to the floor in a heap, finally
rolling under the table. The other boys sprang to their feet in
sudden alarm.

"It's a band," cried Phil. "Don't be afraid."

Then the circus band, that had been waiting in the hall just
outside the dining place, marched in with horns blaring, drums
beating, and took up their position at the far end of the room.

"It's the circus band," cried the lads, now recovering from
their fright. "How did they get here?"

By this time Teddy, his face red and resentful, was poking his
head from beneath the table.

"Hey, Rube!" he shouted, then ducked back again.

Phil understood instantly that this was one of
Mr. Sparling's surprises. But there were still other surprises
to come. No sooner had the band taken up its position than there
was again a commotion out in the hall. The lads opened their
eyes wide when a troop of painted clowns came trotting in,
followed by half a dozen acrobats, all in ring costume. A mat
was quickly spread by some attendants that Mr. Sparling had sent.

Then began the merriest hodge-podge of acrobatic nonsense that
the high school boys ever had seen. The clowns, entering into
the spirit of the moment, grew wonderfully funny. They sang
songs and told stories, while the acrobats hurled themselves into
a mad whirl of somersaults, cartwheels and Wild Dervish throws.

Thus far the boys were too amazed to speak.

All at once some of the performers began to form a pyramid, one
standing on the other's shoulders.

"Here, I'm going to be the top-mounter!" cried Teddy, taking
a running start and beginning to clamber up the human column.
He was assisted up and up until he was standing at the top,
his head almost touching the high ceiling in the room.

"Speech!" howled the delighted high school boys.

"Fellow citizens," began Teddy.

Just then the human pyramid toppled over and Teddy had to leap to
save himself, striking the mat, doing a rolling tumble and coming
up on his feet.

When all the fun making in the hall was over one surprise proved
yet to be in the reserve. The high school boys of Edmeston
turned out with lighted torches. Forming in column of fours they
escorted Phil and Teddy to their car on the circus train. It was
not many minutes later that the boys, tired out but happy,
tumbled into their berths, where they were asleep immediately,
carrying on, even in their dreams, the joyous scenes through
which they had just passed.



Half a hundred motley fools came trooping into the sawdust arena,
their voices raised in song and shout.

Mud clown, character clown, harlequin, fat boy, jester, funny
rustic, vied with each other in mirth-provoking antics so aptly
described by the circus press agent as a "merry-hodgepodge of
fun-provoking, acrobatic idiosyncrasies of an amazing character."

And so they were.

Children screamed with delight, while their elders smiled a
dignified approval of the grotesque, painted throng that trooped
gayly down the uneven course.

The music of the circus band stopped short. Then came a fanfare
of trumpets, and far down the line from behind the crimson
curtains near to the bandstand, a dignified figure all in white,
emerged and tripped along the grassy way, halting now and then
to gaze fixedly at some imaginary object just above the heads of
those on the upper row of seats, the very drollery of which gaze
was irresistible.

Shivers, Prince of Clowns, the greatest fun maker and character
clown of all that mad, painted throng, had made his entry.

Shivers had joined out with the Sparling show for the first time
that season. He was known as the leading clown in the business.
>From the first, Shivers had taken a liking to Teddy Tucker, and
shortly after leaving Edmeston he had conceived the idea of
making a full-fledged clown of Teddy. The permission of the
manager had been obtained and this was Teddy's first appearance
as assistant to Shivers. Teddy was considerably smaller,
of course, and made up as the exact counterpart of Shivers
trailing along after him like a shadow, the lad made a most
amusing appearance. Every move that the clown made, Teddy
mimicked as the two minced along down the concourse.

Shivers was a shining model of the clown both in method
and makeup. His stiffly starched bulging trousers disappeared
under the stiff ruffles of a three-quarter waist. A broad
turnover collar of the nurse style was set off with a large bow
of bright red ribbon, and a baker's cap, perched jauntily on one
side of the head, completed his merry makeup. This too describes
Teddy Tucker's outfit.

"Now, be funny!" directed Shivers.

"I can't help but be if I act like you," retorted Teddy, whereat
the clown grinned.

Pausing before the dollar seats the clown pulled out the
ruffles of his snow-white waist, poising with crossed legs on
one toe. Teddy did the same, and a great roar was the reward
of their drollery.

"La, la! La, la, la!" hummed the clown, stumbling over a rope
to the keen delight of those in the reserved seats--the same
rope, by the way, that he had been falling over twice each day
for the past month. Then he blew a kiss to a fragile slip of a
girl who was perched on a trapeze bar far up toward the dome of
the great tent.

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