This Etext was prepared for Project Gutenberg by Greg Berckes
The Circus Boys On the Mississippi
Or
Afloat with the Big Show on the Big River
By EDGAR B. P. DARLINGTON
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I MAKING A LIVELY START II JANUARY LENDS A FOOT III A DAY OF MEMORIES IV THEIR CURIOSITY AROUSED V THE CIRCUS BOYS' SURPRISE VI A BOLT FROM THE CLOUDS VII IN NEW QUARTERS VIII JANUARY ON THE RAMPAGE IX PHIL FORREST TO THE RESCUE X ALL ABOARD FOR THE GULF! XI EGG, EGG, WHO'S GOT THE EGG? XII TRYING OUT A NEW ACT XIII A NARROW ESCAPE XIV THE PILOT GETS A SURPRISE XV AN UNWELCOME VISITOR XVI BETRAYED BY A SNEEZE XVII EAVESDROPPERS! XVIII MAKING A CAPTURE XIX TEDDY JOINS THE BAND XX A CAPTURE IN THE AIR XXI A CIRCUS BOY MISSING XXII OVERBOARD INTO THE RIVER XXIII THE ROMAN CHARIOT RACES XXIV CONCLUSION
The Circus Boys on the Mississippi
CHAPTER I
MAKING A LIVELY START
"Have you had any trouble with Diaz, Teddy?"
"Who's he?"
"The new Spanish clown."
"Oh!"
Teddy Tucker's face grew serious.
"What about him, Phil?"
"That is what I am asking you. Have you had any misunderstanding—angry words or anything of the sort with him?" persisted Phil Forrest, with a keen, inquiring glance into the face of his companion.
"Well, maybe," admitted the Circus Boy, with evident reluctance.
"What made you think I had?"
"From the way he looked at you when you were standing in the paddock this afternoon, waiting for your cue to go on."
"Huh! How did he look at me?"
"As if he had a grudge against you. There was an expression in his eyes that said more plainly than words, 'I'll get even with you yet, young man, you see if I do not.'"
"Wonderful!" breathed Teddy.
"What do you mean?"
"You must be a mind reader, Phil Forrest," grumbled Teddy, digging his heel into the soft turf of the circus lot. "Can you read my mind? If you can, what am I thinking about now?"
"You are thinking," answered Phil slowly, "that you will make me forget the question I asked you just now. You are thinking you would rather not answer my question."
Teddy opened his eyes a little wider.
"You ought to go into the business."
"What business?"
"Reading people's minds, at so much per read."
"Thank you."
"I wish you'd read the mind of that donkey of mine, and find out what he's got up his sleeve, or rather his hoofs, for me this evening."
"Do you know of what else you are thinking?"
"Of course I do. Think I don't know what I am thinking about?
Well! What am I thinking about?"
"At the present moment you are thinking that you will do to Diaz what he hopes to do to you some of these days—get even with him for some fancied wrong. Am I right?"
"I'll hand him a good stiff punch, one of these fine spring mornings, that's what I'll do," growled Tucker, his face flushing angrily.
"Teddy Tucker, listen to me!"
"I'm listening."
"You will do nothing of the sort."
"I won't?"
"No."
"You just wait and see."
"Since we started out on our fourth season with the Sparling
Combined Shows this spring, you have behaved yourself
remarkably well. I know it must have pained you to do so.
I give you full credit, but don't spoil it all now, please."
"Spoil it?"
"Yes. You must remember that this is now a Big show—larger this season than ever before, and you must not expect Mr. Sparling to excuse your shortcomings as he did in the old days."
"I'm not afraid of Boss Sparling."
"You have no occasion to be, as long as you do your duty and attend to business. We owe him a heavy debt of gratitude, both of us. You know that, don't you, Teddy?"
"I—I guess so."
"What is the trouble between you and Diaz?" persisted
Phil Forrest, returning to his original inquiry.
"Well," drawled Teddy, "you know their act?"
"Yes."
"Throwing those peaked hats clear across the arena and catching the hats on their heads, just like a couple of monkeys."
"I didn't know monkeys ever did that," smiled Phil.
"Well, maybe they don't. The trained seals do, anyhow."
Phil nodded.
"They—the Spaniards—were doing that the other day when I was going out after my clown act. I had picked up the ringmaster's whip, and as one of the hats went sailing over my head I just took a shot at it."
"Took a shot at it?"
"Yes. I fired at it on the wing, as it were. Don't you understand?" demanded the lad somewhat impatiently.
Phil shook his head.
"I hit it a crack with the ringmaster's whip and I hit the mark the first shot. Down came the hat and it caught me on the nose."
"Then what did you do?"
"Knocked it on the ground, then kicked it out of the ring," grinned Teddy.
"Of course you spoiled their act," commented Phil.
"I—I guess I did."
"That was an ungentlemanly thing to do, to say the least.
It is lucky for you that Mr. Sparling did not happen to see you.
Do you know what would have happened to you if he had?"
"He would have fined me, I suppose."
"No. You would have closed right there. He would have had you sent back home by the first train if he had seen you do a thing like that."
"I don't care. I can get a job with the Yankee Robinson show any time, now."
"Not if you were to be discharged from this outfit for bad conduct. I don't wonder Diaz is angry. Did he say anything to you at the time?"
Teddy nodded.
"What did he say?"
"I didn't understand all he said. Some of it was in Spanish, but what I did understand was enough," grinned the boy.
"Strong language, eh?"
"Phil, he can beat the boss canvasman in that line."
"I am surprised, Teddy Tucker."
"So was I."
"I don't mean that. I am surprised that you should so far forget yourself as to do such a thing. I don't blame Diaz for being angry, and I warn you that you had better look out for him. Some of those foreigners have very violent tempers."
"Well, he didn't tell the boss, at any rate."
"No. Perhaps in the long run it might have been better for you if he had. Diaz is awaiting his opportunity to get even with you in his own way. Look out for him, Teddy."
"He had better look out for me."
"Don't irritate him. Were I in your place I should go to the clown and apologize. Tell him it was a thoughtless act on your part and that you are sorry you did it—"
"I won't."
"As you please, but that is what I would do."
"You—you would do that?"
"I certainly would."
"And let him give you the laugh?"
"That would make no difference to me. I should be doing what is right, and that would be satisfaction enough, no matter what he said or did after that."
Teddy reflected for a moment.
"Well, maybe that would be a good idea. And if he won't accept my apology, what then—shall I hand him a—"
"Smile and leave him. You will have done the best you could to make amends."
"All right, I'll apologize," nodded the Circus Boy. "I'll shed a tear or two to show him how sorry I am. Want to see me do it?"
"I should say not. You will do it better provided I am not looking on, but for goodness' sake don't make a mess of the whole business. It would be too bad to make an enemy of one of your associates so early in the season. Think how uncomfortable it would be for you all through the summer. He has not been with us long enough to become used to your practical jokes. Perhaps after he gets better acquainted with you, he may not mind your peculiar ways so much," added Phil, with a short laugh. "Now run along and be good."
Teddy turned away and slipped through the paddock opening, in front of which the lads had been standing just outside the tent, leaving Phil looking after him with a half smile on his face.
The Circus Boys were again on the road with the Great Sparling Combined Shows. This was their fourth season out, and the readers will remember them as the same lads who in "THE CIRCUS BOYS ON THE FLYING RINGS," had made their humble start in the circus world. During that first season both lads had distinguished themselves—Phil for his bravery and cool headedness, Teddy for getting himself into trouble under all circumstances and conditions. They had quickly risen, however, to the grade of real circus performers, the owner of the show recognizing in each, the making of a fine performer.
In "THE CIRCUS BOYS ACROSS THE CONTINENT," it will be recalled how Phil and his companion won new laurels in the sawdust arena, and how the former ran down and captured a bad man who had been a thorn in the side of the circus itself for many weeks through his efforts to avenge a fancied wrong. By this time the boys had become full-fledged circus performers, each playing an important part in the performance.
It will be recalled, too, how Phil and Teddy in "THE CIRCUS BOYS IN DIXIE LAND," advanced rapidly in their calling; how Phil was captured by a rival show, held prisoner on the owner's private car, and later was obliged to become a performer in the ring of the rival show. His escape, his long tramp to rejoin his own show, followed by the battle of the elephants—will be well remembered by all the readers of the previous volumes in this series.
During the winter just passed, the lads had been attending the high school at Edmeston, where they made their home, working hard after school hours to keep themselves in good physical condition for the next season's work.
Spring came. The lads passed their final examinations, and, with their diplomas in their pockets, set out one bright May morning to join the show which, by this time, had come to be looked upon by them as a real home.
They had been on the road less than two weeks now, and were looking forward with keen anticipation to their summer under the billowing canvas of the Great Sparling Shows.
"I think I will take a peep to see how Teddy is getting along with his apology," decided Phil, turning and entering the paddock. Then he stepped quietly into the dressing tent.
He saw Teddy approach the clown, Diaz, who sat on his trunk making up his face before a hand mirror.
Teddy halted a few feet from the clown, waiting until the latter should have observed him. The clown glanced up, glowered, and slowly placed the mirror on the trunk beside him. He seemed astonished that the boy should have the courage to face him.
Then Teddy, solemn-faced, made his apology. To Phil Forrest's listening ears it was the most amazing apology he ever had listened to.
"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," said Teddy.
"What!" fairly exploded the clown.
"I'm sorry I made a monkey of you," repeated the Circus Boy in a slightly louder tone. "Maybe I wouldn't have done so if I had had time to think about it."
"You make apology to me—to me?" questioned Diaz, tapping his own chest significantly.
"Yes; to whom did you think I was making an apology—to the hyena out under the menagerie top, eh?"
"Bah!"
"I am sorry I made a fool of you, Mr. Diaz."
"Me—fool?"
"Yes, I guess you are about right. You certainly look the part, and—"
Diaz sprang up with a growl of rage, Tucker giving ground a little as he observed the anger in the painted face before him. Before the lad could raise his hands to protect himself Diaz had grasped Teddy and hurled him across the dressing tent, where he landed in a pail of water.
He was up in a twinkling. His face was flushed and his hands were clenched.
No sooner had he gotten to his feet than he observed that the clown had started for him again. Teddy squared off, prepared for fight. At that moment, however, there came an interruption that turned the attention of the enraged clown in another direction.
Phil Forrest quickly stepped between them facing Diaz.
"What are you going to do?" demanded the Circus Boy in a quiet voice.
"Do?"
"Yes."
"I punish the monkey-face—"
"You will, eh?" howled Teddy, starting forward.
Phil thrust his companion aside.
"Go away. I will see if I can explain to him," cautioned Phil, turning to the clown again, just as the latter was making a rush at Teddy.
"One moment, Mr. Diaz. My friend Teddy is not very diplomatic, but he means well. He apologized to you for what he had done, did he not?"
"Yes," growled the clown.
"Then why not call it square and—"
"I punish him. I fix him!" roared Diaz, making a leap for Teddy, who had managed to edge up nearer to them.
"You will do nothing of the sort," answered Phil Forrest firmly, again stepping between them.
An angry light glowed in the eyes of the clown. For an instant he glared into Phil's steady gray eyes, then all of a sudden launched a vicious blow at the boy.
The blow failed to reach the mark. Phil dodged and stepped back a couple of feet.
Another, as swift as the first was sent straight for his head. This blow the Circus Boy skillfully parried, but made no effort to return.
"Mr. Diaz! Mr. Diaz!" warned Phil. "You forget yourself.
Please don't do anything you will be sorry for afterwards."
"I fix you!" snarled the clown.
"I don't want to hit you, sir, but you may force me to do so."
Phil had no time to warn the fellow further, for the clown began to rain blows upon him, though with no great exhibition of boxing skill. Phil could have landed effectively anywhere on the clown's body had he chosen to do so.
Instead, the boy slowly gave ground, defending himself cleverly. Not one single blow from the powerful fist of Diaz reached him, Phil exhibiting the wonderful self-control that was characteristic of him. He even found opportunity to warn Teddy to get out of the tent until the tempest had blown over.
Teddy, however, stood with hands thrust in his trousers pockets, shoulders hunched forward, glaring at Diaz.
"Don't you get in this now," breathed Phil. "Keep away!
Keep away! I'll—"
At that moment Phil stumbled over a trunk, landing on his head and shoulders. Quick as he was he found himself unable to turn over and roll away soon enough to get beyond reach of the angry clown.
Diaz hurled himself upon the slender, though athletic figure of the Circus Boy, almost knocking the breath out of Phil.
No sooner had he done so than something else happened. A body launched itself through the air. The body belonged to Tucker. Teddy landed with great force on the head and shoulders of the enraged clown, flattening the latter down upon Phil with crushing weight, and nearly knocking Forrest senseless.
CHAPTER II
JANUARY LENDS A FOOT
"Stop it!" roared a voice. "We don't allow 'roughhouse' in the dressing tent."
"Yes," added another; "go out on the lot if you want to settle your differences."
Mr. Miaco, the head clown, who had been a true friend to the boys from the beginning of their circus career, had discovered what was going on about the time Teddy decided to mix in in the disagreement. Mr. Miaco sprang up and ran to the struggling heap. Grasping Teddy firmly by the shoulder he tossed the lad aside.
"Now, you stay out of this, unless you want a thrashing from me," the head clown warned.
The next to feel the grip of his powerful hand was the clown, Diaz, and when Mr. Miaco discovered that the clown had Phil Forrest down, he could scarcely restrain himself from severely punishing the fellow. However, Miaco satisfied himself with hauling Diaz from his victim with little ceremony. Then he jerked the angry clown to his feet.
"Well, sir, what have you to say for yourself?" demanded Miaco, gazing at the other sternly.
"This no business of yours," growled Diaz.
"That remains to be seen. I'll decide whether it is any of my affair or not. Phil, what does this mean?"
"Just a little matter between ourselves. Thank you for helping me out."
"Did he attack you, Phil?"
"He did, but he no doubt thought he had sufficient provocation.
Perhaps we should not be too hard on Mr. Diaz."
"Then the best thing to do is to tell Mr. Sparling. I—"
"Please don't do anything of the sort," begged Phil. "In the first place, Diaz's anger was directed against Teddy, and I had to mix myself in their quarrel. Teddy did something to him a few weeks ago that made the clown very angry, and I don't blame Diaz."
"Was there any excuse for his pitching into you in this manner?"
"Well," laughed Phil, "perhaps the situation did not demand exactly that sort of treatment."
"How did you come to let him get you so easily?"
"I fell over something."
"Oh, that's it?"
"Yes. I wasn't trying to hit him. I could have done so easily, but I felt that I was in the wrong."
"Humph!" grunted the head clown. Then he turned to Diaz.
"See here, you fellow!"
"What you want?" demanded Diaz in a surly tone.
"I want to advise you to let those boys alone in the future. They have been with this show a long time, and they are highly thought of by Mr. Sparling. Were he to hear what you have done tonight I rather think you would pack your trunk and quit right here. I shall not tell him. Next time I see you doing any such thing you will have to answer to me. I'm the head clown here, and I won't stand for one of my men pitching on a boy."
Teddy was chuckling to himself over the severe rebuke that Miaco was administering to his clown.
"Do you boys intend going on tonight?" Miaco demanded suddenly, turning on Teddy.
"Certainly," answered Phil.
"Then I should advise you to be getting into your makeups."
"Why, what time is it?"
"A quarter to eight."
"Whew! Come on, Teddy."
A few moments more and peace had been restored in the dressing tent, though Diaz was muttering to himself as he laid the powder over his face, preparatory to his first entry into the ring.
"I am afraid we have not heard the last of Diaz, Teddy," confided Phil to his companion. "You see what your moment of thoughtlessness has brought upon us, don't you?"
"You didn't have to mix in the row. I could have handled him."
"I am forced to admit that you are right. I sought to avoid trouble and I was the direct cause of a lot of it. There goes the first call. Hurry up!"
The Circus Boys had, indeed, made an enemy. It was noticed, however, that Manuel, the assistant of Diaz, had taken no part in the row. The young man had calmly proceeded with his making up without appearing to take the slightest interest in the affair. Whether or not his apparent indifference was merely assumed was not known.
The two boys were not performing on the flying rings this season. They had retained all their other acts, however, though the star act was the flying trapeze, in which Phil Forrest was now one of the leading performers.
Teddy rode his donkey, January, took part in the ground tumbling, acted as shadow again for the clown Shivers, besides making himself generally useful in some of the other acts.
As for Phil's bareback riding, he occupied the center ring in this act, as he had done the season before. He had come to be perhaps the most useful man with the Sparling show.
"I advise you to look out for that fellow. He is a dangerous customer," warned Miaco under his breath, as Phil sat down on his horse during a rest in the performance.
The Circus Boy nodded his understanding, but appeared little disturbed at Miaco's warning. Like the seasoned circus man that he was, he had learned to take things as they came, making the best of every situation when he came face to face with it.
Diaz and his assistant were entering the ring as Phil left it. They began throwing their hats, winning great applause, for their act was a clever one of its kind. At about the same time, Teddy Tucker and January came on, the Circus Boy howling, January braying and bucking, beating the air with his heels, for he had been taught some entirely new tricks during the winter.
The ringmaster held up his hand for silence.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you, January. As January is the first month of the year, so is this January first in the donkey world. You will observe how docile and kind he appears. Yet, ladies and gentlemen, the management of this show will give a hundred dollars to any person who can stick on his back for a full minute—only sixty seconds, ladies and gentlemen. Do you know of any easier or faster way to make money? Six thousand dollars an hour if you stay that long. Who will be the first to earn the money?"
It was the first time the announcement had been made from the ring. Mr. Sparling had given his consent, even though he had not seen the act. He had, however, observed Teddy engaged in a tussle with the beast that afternoon, and could readily understand that what Teddy told him about January's contrariness was not overdrawn.
A colored man came down from the audience, and, throwing off his coat, announced his intention of riding the mule.
January appeared to have no objection, permitting the colored man to get on his back without offering the least opposition. To Teddy, who stood in front of the animal, grinning, there was a glint in the eye of the mule that spelled trouble for the colored man.
Suddenly January reared, then as quickly tipped the other way until it appeared to the spectators as if he were standing on his head.
The rider suddenly landed on his back in the sawdust.
"The gentleman loses," announced the ringmaster. "Is there any other gentleman in the audience who thinks he can earn one hundred dollars a minute—six thousand dollars an hour?"
No one appeared to be anxious to make the attempt.
Manuel, in the meantime, had drawn closer, paying strict attention to the words of the ringmaster.
"You give money for riding the burro?" questioned the little Spaniard.
"Burro? This is no Mexican burro, this is a donkey!" sniffed
Teddy contemptuously.
The ringmaster instantly scented an opportunity to have some fun, and at the same time make the audience laugh. He glanced about to see if Mr. Sparling were under the big top, and not seeing him, instantly decided to take a long chance.
"Do you think you can ride January, sir?"
"I ride burro."
"Very well, it is your privilege to do so if you can. Ladies and gentlemen, this clown has never before attempted this feat. He thinks he can ride the donkey. If he succeeds he will receive the reward offered by the management of the show, just the same as you would have done had you performed the feat."
Teddy stroked January's nose, then leaning over, the Circus Boy whispered in the animal's ear.
"January," he said, "you've got a solemn duty to perform. If you shirk it you are no longer a friend of mine, and you get no more candy—understand? No more candy."
January curled his upper lip ever so little and brayed dismally.
"That's right; I knew you would agree to the sentiment."
"Get away from his head, Master Teddy. The Spanish clown is about to distinguish himself," announced the ringmaster.
Manuel was an agile little fellow. While the announcement was being made he had been taking mental measurement of the beast and deciding upon his course of action.
Ere Teddy had stepped back the Spaniard took a running start, and, with a leap, landed fairly on the back of the donkey.
The latter, taken by surprise, cleared the ground with all four feet and bucked, but the rider had flung his arms about the donkey's neck, clinging with both feet to the beast's body, grimly determined to win that hundred dollars or die in the attempt.
"Go it, January," encouraged Teddy. "Give it to him!
Soak him hard!"
January stood on his hind feet, then on his head, as it were, but still the Spaniard clung doggedly.
By this time the donkey had begun to get angry. He had been taken an unfair advantage of and he did not like it. Suddenly he launched into a perfect volley of kicks, each kick giving the rider such a violent jolt that he was rapidly losing his hold.
"Keep it up! Keep it up! You've got him!" exulted the
Circus Boy.
The audience was howling with delight.
"There he goes!" shrieked Teddy.
Manuel, now as helpless as a ship without a rudder, was being buffeted over the back of the plunging animal.
Manuel was yelling in his native language, but if anyone understood what he was saying, that one gave no heed. Teddy, on the other hand, was urging January with taunt and prod of the ringmaster's whip.
Suddenly the Spanish clown was bounced over the donkey's rump, landing on the animal's hocks. It was January's moment—the moment he had been cunningly waiting and planning for. The donkey's hoofs shot up into the air with the clown on them. The hoofs were quickly drawn back, but the Spanish clown continued right on, sailing through the air like a great gaudy projectile.
The audience yelled its approval.
Manuel landed with a crash in the midst of the lower grandstand seats. A second later there was a mix-up that required the united services of a dozen ring attendants to straighten out.
In the meantime, Teddy Tucker was rolling on the ground near the center pole, howling with delight, while January, with lowered head, was trotting innocently toward the paddock.
The ringmaster's whistle trilled for the next act, and the show went on with its characteristic dash and sprightliness.
However, Teddy Tucker's plan to get one of the Spanish hat-throwing clowns into trouble had been an entire success. He had succeeded, also, in making another bitter enemy for the Circus Boys.
CHAPTER III
A DAY OF MEMORIES
Mr. Sparling, the owner of the show, had been a witness of the latter part of Teddy's act. The showman was standing over near the entrance to the menagerie tent when Manuel took his unexpected flight, and the proprietor sat down on the grass, laughing until the tears started from his eyes.
The act had been a breach of discipline, so Mr. Sparling prudently kept himself out of sight until the show had progressed further.
Later in the evening he chanced to pass Teddy out in the paddock.
"Well, my lad, how is January working tonight?" he asked, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Never better, sir, thank you."
"I presume he obeys your commands perfectly, eh?"
"Does everything I tell him to, Mr. Sparling. I can do anything with that donkey. Why, I could wink at him and make him kick your head off. I—"
"I'll take your word for it, young man—I'll take your word for it. Let me warn you to be careful that you do not tell him to do anything that will interfere with the programme. We must have our acts clean cut, and embodying nothing that has not been arranged for in advance. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," answered Teddy, giving the owner a keen, inquiring glance.
"I'll bet he saw that," mused the lad. "He's letting me off easy because he had to laugh, just the same as the rest of the people did."
"What did Mr. Sparling have to say?" questioned Phil, who had emerged from the dressing tent just as Teddy was walking away from the showman.
Teddy told him.
"You got off pretty easy, I must say. It is a wonder he did not discipline you for that."
"Do you think he saw Manuel fly?"
"He did, or else someone told him. Be careful, Teddy! You are laying up trouble for all of us," warned Phil.
"I got even with Mr. Hat Thrower, just the same," grinned Tucker.
Teddy was the happiest boy in the show that night, and he went to his sleeping quarters chuckling all the way.
The show, this season, had opened in Chicago, and was now working its way across the state of Illinois. The route had caused considerable comment among the show people. They did not understand what the plans of the owner might be.
Ordinarily, give a showman the first week or two of the show's route and he will tell you just what parts of the country the show will visit during that particular season. The performers were unable to do so in this instance. Phil Forrest was as much perplexed as the others, but he made no mention of this to Mr. Sparling.
"He has some surprise up his sleeve, I am sure," decided
Phil shrewdly.
The next morning Phil asked Mr. Miaco, the head clown, if he knew where they were going.
"I do not," answered the clown. "This route has kept me guessing. Boss Sparling may be headed for Australia for all I know. He's just as likely to go there as anywhere else. Has the Spaniard bothered you since that mix-up?"
"No."
"Well, keep away from him. That is my advice."
"I shall not bother him. You may depend upon that, Mr. Miaco.
I can't say as much for Teddy."
"Teddy put up that job with January last night, didn't he?"
"He hasn't said so."
"Not necessary. I saw the whole thing. Lucky for Teddy that
Mr. Sparling did not happen to be about."
"I am not so sure that he was not."
"What?"
Phil explained what Mr. Sparling had said to Teddy out in the paddock.
"Yes, he saw it all right, but I guess he doesn't know about the trouble in the dressing tent yesterday."
"No, I think not. I hope he does not hear of it, either. I do not wish Mr. Sparling to think that I am a troublemaker, or that I was mixed up in an unseemly row in the dressing tent. I should feel very much humiliated were I to be called to account for a thing like that. What are all those flags flying for in town today?"
"Don't you know?"
"No, I don't."
"You don't know what day this is?"
"No, sir."
"This is Decoration Day."
"Oh, that's so."
"We lose all track of days in the show business. I'll wager you do not even know what town we are performing in today," laughed the clown.
"I shall have to confess that I do not."
"I thought so. Of course you know we are in the state of Illinois?"
"Yes, I think I have heard something to that effect," grinned Phil.
By the time the boys had eaten their breakfast, and had strolled over toward the tents, they found the dressing tents in place and the performers busily engaged in unpacking their belongings, hanging their costumes on lines stretched across the dressing tent, and making such repairs in the costumes as were found to be necessary, for a showman must be handy with the needle as well as with bar and trapeze.
Phil's trunk was next to that of Diaz. The Circus Boy did not mind this at all, but the clown appeared to feel a continual resentment at the fact.
"Good morning, Mr. Diaz," greeted the lad, with a sunny smile.
"Shall we shake hands and be friends?"
Diaz glared at him, but made no reply. He did not even appear to have observed the hand that was extended toward him.
"I am sorry you feel that way about it, sir. If I was hasty I beg you will forgive me," urged Phil.
Diaz turned his back on him.
"Very well, sir," said the Circus Boy, a little proudly and with slightly heightened color, "I shall not trouble you again."
Phil turned away and began unpacking his trunk, giving no further heed to the sullen clown.
"The Honorable Mr. Diaz says 'nix,'" laughed Teddy, who had been an amused witness to the one-sided conversation, the word "nix" being the circus man's comprehensive way of saying, "I refuse."
"Don't stir him up, Teddy," warned Phil.
"Say, what's going on over in the women's dressing tent?"
"I did not know that anything out of the ordinary was happening there," said Phil. "Why?"
"I see a lot of folks going in and out."
"Nothing unusual about that, I guess."
"Yes, there is."
"What makes you think so?"
" 'Cause they're carrying flowers in and making a great fuss.
I'm going over to find out. Come along?"
"No, thank you. You had better keep out. You know you are not supposed to go in the other dressing tent."
Teddy was not disturbed by the warning. He turned and started for the women's dressing tent, where he saw several of the other performers passing through the entrance. Phil, who had stepped to the door of his own dressing tent, observed the same thing.
"I guess there must be something going on over there. I shall have to find out what it means," he thought.
"May I come in, Mrs. Waite?" called Phil from the entrance.
"Sure. Come in Phil," smiled the wardrobe woman.
Teddy had not wasted the breath to ask permission to enter, but the moment he stepped inside something caught his eyes, causing them to open a little wider.
Two trunks had been drawn up in the center; over them was thrown an American flag. At one end a flag on a standard had been planted, and on the trunks, flowers and wreaths had been placed.
"What's that thing?" asked Teddy.
"That is my grave, Master Teddy," answered Mrs. Waite in a low tone.
"Your grave?"
"Yes."
"Pshaw! That's a funny kind of grave. What's buried there—your pet poodle?"
"Teddy! Teddy!" whispered Phil reprovingly.
"Go 'way. This is some kind of a joke," growled Teddy.
"It is not a joke, though I do not understand the meaning of it just yet. You say this is your grave, Mrs. Waite?" asked Phil.
"Yes, Phil. You know my husband was a soldier?"
"No, I did not know that, Mrs. Waite. Will you tell me all about it?"
Phil was deeply interested now.