"Oh, no, it might have hurt him, Teddy."

"Hurt him? Pshaw! Maybe the drumstick didn't hurt me. Oh, no!"

"Well, get dressed. I will go out and see if I can pour oil on the troubled waters. You stay here. I don't want you mixing it up with the drummer. I'll attend to him."

Phil first hunted up Mr. Sparling, whom he found shaving in his cabin.

"Why good morning, Phil. Why this early call?"

"I called to ask you what a new set of heads will cost for the ba.s.s drum?"

"I think they are worth about fifteen dollars. Why do you ask?"

"Because Teddy and myself have just smashed the heads out of the one belonging to the band."

Mr. Sparling paused in his shaving long enough to glance keenly at Phil. There was a twinkle in his eyes. He knew that his Circus Boys had been up to some mischief. Phil was as solemn as an owl.

"It was this way," explained the lad, as he related how the accident had occurred.

Mr. Sparling sat down and laughed.

"Never mind the drum heads. We have others for just such an emergency, I do not mind a little fun once in a while. We all have to blow off steam sometimes."

"No, sir; we shall pay for the drum heads. To whom does the drum belong?"

"The drummer, I think."

"Very well; thank you."

Phil hastily withdrew from the cabin and hurried back to his own stateroom.

"Teddy," he said, "I want seven-fifty from you."

"What's that?"

"Seven dollars and a half, please."

Teddy began pawing over his trousers. All at once he paused, looking up at Phil suspiciously.

"You want to borrow seven-fifty, do you?"

"No, I want you to contribute it."

"To what?"

"To the fund."

"What fund? What are you talking about?"

"Those drum heads are worth fifteen dollars and we are going to pay the owner of the drum for the damage we did. I will give half and you half."

"What!" shrieked Teddy.

"Come, pay up!"

"What! Give that fellow money when he's taken more than twenty- five dollars worth out of my hide? I guess not! What kind of an easy mark do you think I am? Pay him yourself. You did it."

"Teddy, do you want me to give you a good thrashing, right here and now?"

"You can't do it. You never could," returned Teddy, belligerently.

"Come, hand out the money!"

Teddy eyed his companion for a full minute; then, thrusting a hand slowly into his own trousers' pocket, brought forth a goodly roll of bills from which he counted off eight dollars.

"Tell him to keep the change."

"I will, thank you," said Phil with a merry twinkle in his eyes.

"It's like taking candy out of the mouth of a babe. I'll get more than eight dollars' worth out of that ba.s.s--he's baser than he is ba.s.s. Ba.s.s sounds like a fish, doesn't it--out of that ba.s.s drummer when I get a good fair chance at him. Sometime when he isn't looking, you know. I wonder if he could be the fellow who stole my egg?" questioned Teddy reflectively.

Phil went out laughing, to make his peace with the drummer.

CHAPTER XX

A CAPTURE IN THE AIR

Fortunately, the band carried a new set of heads for the drum, and the contribution of the boys served to restore the offended musicians to good nature. Teddy, however, was not appeased.

That youngster vowed that he would take revenge on the ba.s.s drummer at the very first opportunity.

That afternoon, during the performance, Teddy began his getting-even process by standing in front of the bandstand between his acts, and making faces at the musicians.

This seemed to amuse them, and brought only smiles to their faces. Teddy was not there for the purpose of amusing the band, so he turned his back on them and tried to think of something more effective.

The show did a great business at Des Moines, having a "turn-away"

at both afternoon and evening performances. The Sparling shows had played there before, but never to such business, which the showman decided was due to their novel way of traveling. He knew that these little novelties frequently made fortunes for Circus owners.

At the evening performance, Teddy had an inspiration. He was too busy, during the first part of the show, to give his idea a practical test, but later in the evening, while he was awaiting his cue to go on in his clown act, he tried the new plan.

The lad had purchased half a dozen lemons from the refreshment stand. One of these he cut in halves, secreting the pieces in a pocket of his clown costume; then when the time came he stationed himself in front of the bandstand where he stood until he had gained the attention of several of the musicians.

Teddy took out the two pieces of lemon with a great flourish, went through the motions of sprinkling sugar over them, then began sucking first one piece, then the other, varying his performance by holding out the lemon invitingly to the players.

The ba.s.s drum player scowled. Teddy's lemon did not affect the beating of the drum, but as the lad began to make believe that the acid juice was puckering his lips, some of the musicians showed signs of uneasiness.

The Circus Boy observing this, smacked his lips again and again, and industriously swallowed the juice, though it nearly choked him to do so.