The Circus Boys on the Mississippi Part 14

"Yes; Teddy found it in the hay behind the concert platform."

The showman's eyes twinkled.

"What were you doing back there?"

"Looking for a place to take a catnap between acts."

Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.

"There's only one Teddy in the whole wide world!"

"I hope not," added the boy quickly.

"Where is the egg--what did you do with it?"

"Got it in my bag here, want to see it?"

He handed the egg to Mr. Sparling who turned it over, glancing at it curiously.

"Look out! You'll drop it!"

"And what are you going to do with it, may I ask?"

"Eat it."

"What, eat up my property?"

"Eggs belongs to the finder, and--"

"You mean eggs _belong_ to the finder," corrected Phil.

"Yes, I guess so. Any way, so you say it. I'm going to eat this egg, even if it does give me indigestion all the rest of my life.

How do you cook ostrich eggs?"

"I never cooked any, my boy. You will have to consult the cook on that point. Perhaps he may consent to cook it for you."

"I'll give you a slice off the white when it's cooked."

"Thank you. You are welcome to the whole egg. Better go up and locate yourselves, boys."

"What number is our room, Mr. Sparling?" asked Phil.

"Number twenty-four, on the upper deck. I have given you a nice, roomy, light and airy cabin that I think will please you. It is one of the best on the ship and you should be very comfortable there."

"I am sure we shall be, and thank you very much," said Phil.

"Come along, Teddy."

Together they made their way to the boat and through the crowded, bustling lower deck, where the big canvas-covered wagons were being warped into place, a sort of orderly confusion reigning over everything, the scene lighted by lanterns swinging from hooks all about the deck.

The lads found their cabin, and after lighting the lamp, uttered exclamations of surprise. Instead of the narrow berths they had expected to see, there were white enameled iron bedsteads, a washstand with the same neat finish, and several pictures on the walls.

The cabin was a large one. In the center of it stood a table on which lay a large portfolio and inscribed in gold letters on the outside they read the words, "For the Circus Boys."

The portfolio was filled with writing materials.

"Oh, isn't that fine?" exclaimed Phil.

"Yes, it's a fine egg. I'm going to have the feast of my life when I get it baked--"

"Teddy Tucker!"

"What?"

"What do you think I am talking about?"

"Eggs."

"I am not. I am talking about this beautiful cabin that Mr. Sparling has fixed for us. Look at it--look at this portfolio. I am afraid you don't appreciate how good our employer is to us. There is an easy chair for each of us, too. Why, we ought to be very happy."

"I am happy. So would you be if a hen had laid a five pound egg for you," retorted Teddy.

"Hopeless, hopeless," groaned Phil.

Teddy, muttering to himself, carefully laid the egg away in his trunk, first wrapping it up in an old silk ring shirt, then locking the trunk and putting the key in his pocket.

The lad then made a personal and critical examination of the room, tried the springs of the bed, nodded approvingly, sat down in one of the easy chairs and put his feet on the table.

Phil promptly pushed the feet off.

"Here, what are you doing?"

"This is not the dressing room of a circus, Teddy. This is the living room of a couple of young gentlemen. Let's not forget that. Let us try to keep our cabin looking nice and shipshape, else Mr. Sparling will think we do not appreciate his kindness."

"Say, Phil!"

"Yes?"

"I'll tell you what we'll do!"

"I am listening."

"We'll have a spread up here all by ourselves, tomorrow night, after the show. We'll eat the egg. I'll get the cook to boil it all day tomorrow--does it take a day to boil an ostrich egg?"

"I should think it might take a month," laughed Phil. "Yes; I'll make a martyr of myself and help you eat the egg. I shall never have any peace until that egg is finally disposed of--"

"What's going on downstairs?" interrupted Teddy.

A commotion was heard out on the dock. There was the tramping of many feet, mingled with loud, angry shouts and sharp commands.