This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys In Dixie Land
Or
Winning the Plaudits of the Sunny South
by Edgar B. P. Darlington
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I UNDER CANVAS AGAIN II IN THEIR HOME TOWN III THE CIRCUS MAKES A CALL IV A FRIENDLY AUDIENCE V TAKEN BY SURPRISE VI IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY VII SHIVERS AND HIS SHADOW VIII A RIVAL IN THE FIELD IX PHIL MAKES A DISCOVERY X THE CIRCUS BOY IS RECOGNIZED XI ON SULLY'S PRIVATE CAR XII LOCKED IN THE LINEN CLOSET XIII THROUGH RINGS OF FIRE XIV A DASH FOR FREEDOM XV OUTWITTING THE PURSUERS XVI THE BATTLE OF THE ELEPHANTS XVII MONKEYS IN THE AIR XVIII TEDDY TAKES A DROP XIX THE CIRCUS ON AN ISLAND XX DISASTER BEFALLS THE FAT LADY XXI ON A FLYING TRAPEZE XXII IN A LIVELY BLOW-DOWN XXIII THE LION HUNT XXIV CONCLUSION
The Circus Boys in Dixie Land
CHAPTER I
UNDER CANVAS AGAIN
"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?"
"No."
"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.
In "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT," the lads won new 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?"
"No."
"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.
CHAPTER II
IN THEIR HOME TOWN
"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."
"Who?"
"The gang. The whole high school crowd."
"Oh!"
"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?"
"Yes."
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.
"Why?"
"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."
"Evening?"
"Yes."
"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.
"Where?"
"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.
"What?"
"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?"
"Surely."
"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.
"Why?"
"Good place to show off."
"You have a much better one."
"Where?"
"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."
"Why?"
"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.
CHAPTER III
THE CIRCUS MAKES A CALL
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?"
"Yes."
"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?"
"No."
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.