The Circus Boys on the Mississippi Part 29

"I made a pun."

"Tell it to me."

Teddy in short, jerky sentences, related what had been done and said. Phil leaned against the rail and shouted.

"I--I don't blame them," he gasped between laughs. "It is a wonder they did not throw you overboard."

"They had better not try it."

"But what about the pilot--what happened to him?"

"May--maybe they have put him out, too."

"You have a way of getting into trouble, Teddy. Mr. c.u.mmings will love you for what you have done to him, I can well imagine."

"About as much as I love him, I guess. He got too bold, Phil.

He had to have a lesson and Teddy Tucker was the boy who had to teach it to him. Say, go in and gather me a sandwich out of the wreck, will you?"

"Not I. Go and get your own sandwich. I'm going to see Mr. Sparling in his cabin. He has sent for me."

Teddy sat out on deck while the others were picking up the table, the dishes and the ruined food. It would not do for Mr. Sparling to come in and see how they had wasted the food he had had prepared for them. The probabilities were that they would get no more, were he to do so. Teddy watched the proceedings narrowly from the safe vantage point of the deck.

In the meantime Phil had gone to Mr. Sparling's cabin, where the showman was checking up the day's receipts.

"A pretty good day, Phil," smiled Mr. Sparling.

"I am glad to hear that, sir."

"Two thousand dollars in the clear, as the result of our two performances today. Do you know of any other business that would pay as much for the amount invested, eh, Phil?"

"I do not, sir."

"You see, it is a pretty good business to be in after all, provided it is run on business principles, at the same time treating one's employees like human beings."

"Yes, sir."

"How would you like to have an interest in a show?"

"I am going to, someday. It may be a long time yet before I have earned money enough, but I shall if I live," said the Circus Boy quietly but with determination.

"So you shall. I intend to have a talk with you on this subject, one of these days. What I wanted to talk with you about is Jim's loss. I am glad it wasn't your ring horse, Phil. Have you anything to say about the animal breaking his leg?"

"I have."

"Out with it."

"Somebody is to blame for that accident."

"How?"

"Someone planned that accident."

"Explain!"

"Teddy and myself examined the ring, that is, Teddy already had done so before I returned, and he discovered something--we both decided what must have happened."

"Yes," urged the showman as Phil paused.

"A round hole about a foot deep had been dug in the ring.

This had been covered with a shingle and the sawdust sprinkled over to hide the shingle. It was a deliberate attempt to do someone an injury."

Mr. Sparling eyed him questioningly.

"Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be. Jim didn't happen to step on the shingle until we were doing the pyramid, then of course something happened. It is a wonder that neither Little Dimples nor myself was injured."

"Phil, we simply must find out who is responsible for this dastardly work."

"Yes, sir."

"And when we do--when we do--"

"What then, Mr. Sparling!"

The showman was opening and closing his fingers nervously.

"Don't ask me," he replied in a low, tense voice. "I don't want to see the man. I should do something I would be sorry for all the rest of my life. Good night, Phil."

Phil Forrest left the cabin and strode thoughtfully away to his own room, where he was soon in bed. Phil, however, did not sleep very well that night.

CHAPTER XV

AN UNWELCOME VISITOR

The boats of the Sparling fleet had been moving steadily downstream for several hours, their pa.s.sengers, in the majority of instances, sound asleep, lulled by the gentle motion and the far away "spat, spat, spat," of the industrious paddle wheel at the stern of each craft.

Teddy had prudently kept away from the main cabin for the rest of the evening; when Phil turned in, Teddy was sleeping sweetly.

His active part in the affair in the cabin had not caused him any loss of sleep.

With the pilot, c.u.mmings, however, matters had been different.

Mr. c.u.mmings had been steadily at the wheel of the "Marie" since the boats had sailed shortly after one o'clock in the morning.

The pilot's temper had suffered as the result of his experience in the cabin, and the jeers aud laughter of the circus people had not added to his peace of mind. At intervals he would break out into a tirade of invective and threats against Teddy Tucker, who had so humiliated him.

"I'll get even with that little monkey-face! They ought to put him in the monkey cage where he belongs," growled the pilot, giving the wheel a three-quarter turn to keep the boat from driving her prow into the bank, for which he had been steering to avoid a hidden sand bar.