"You never can guess it--you never can guess the news, Teddy,"
cried Phil Forrest, rushing into the gymnasium, his face flushed
with excitement.
Teddy Tucker, clad in a pair of linen working trunks and a
ragged, sleeveless shirt, both garments much the worse for their
winter's wear, was lazily swinging a pair of Indian clubs.
"What is it, some kind of riddle, Phil?" he questioned, bringing
the clubs down to his sides.
"Me, serious? Why, I never cracked a smile. Isn't anything to
smile at. Besides, do you know, since I've been in the circus
business, every time I want to laugh I check myself so suddenly
that it hurts?"
"My face? No! My makeup. By the time I remember that I haven't
any makeup on I've usually forgotten what it was I wanted to
laugh about. Then I don't laugh."
Teddy shied an Indian club at a rat that was scurrying across the
far end of their gymnasium, missing him by half the width of
the building.
"If you don't care, of course I shan't tell you. But it's good
news, Teddy. You would say so if you knew it."
"What news? Haven't heard anything that sounds like news,"
his eyes fixed on the hole into which the rat had disappeared.
"We're going out with the Great Sparling Combined Shows,
of course. Didn't we sign out for the season before we closed
with the show last fall?"
"Yes, yes; but where?" urged Phil, showing him the letter he
had just brought from the post office. "You couldn't guess if
you tried."
"No. Never was a good guesser. That letter from Mr. Sparling?"
he questioned, as his eyes caught the familiar red and gold
heading used by the owner of the show.
"You know I wrote to him asking that we be allowed to skip the
rehearsals before the show starts out, so that we could stay here
and take our school examinations?"
"Never did see anything about school to go crazy over."
"You'll thank me someday for keeping you at it," said Phil.
"See how well you have done this winter with your school work.
I'm proud of you. Why, Teddy, there are lots of the boys a long
way behind you. They can't say circus boys don't know anything
just because they perform in a circus ring."
"H-m-m-m!" mused Teddy. "You haven't told me yet where we are
going this summer. What's the route?"
"Mr. Sparling says that, as we are going to continue our
last year's acts this season, there will be no necessity
for rehearsals."
The announcement did not appear to have filled Teddy Tucker
with joy.
"Yes. And we shall be able to give a performance that will
surprise Mr. Sparling. Our winter's practicing has done a lot
for us, as has our winter at school."
"You probably will ride the educated mule again, while I expect
to ride the elephant Emperor in the grand entry, as I did before.
I'll be glad to get under the big top again, with the noise and
the people, the music of the band and all that. Won't you,
Teddy?"
questioned Phil, his eyes glowing at the picture he had drawn.
"New York? Oh, no! The show isn't big enough for New York quite
yet, even if it is a railroad show now. We've got to grow some
before that. Mighty few shows are large enough to warrant taking
them into the big city."
"Pshaw! I'd sure make a hit in New York with the mule."
"Time enough for that later. You and I will yet perform in
Madison Square Garden. Just put that down on your route card,
Teddy Tucker."
"Humph! If we don't break our necks before that! Where did you
say we were--"
"After leaving New Jersey, we are to play through New York State,
taking in the big as well as the small towns, and from Buffalo
heading straight west. Mr. Sparling writes that we are going
across the continent."
"Says he's going to make the Sparling Shows known from the
Atlantic to the Pacific--"
"Across the continent!" exclaimed Teddy unbelievingly.
"No; you're fooling."
"Yes; clear to the Pacific Coast. We're going to
San Francisco, too. What do you think of that, Teddy?"
"Great! Wow! Whoop!" howled the boy, hurling his remaining
Indian Club far up among the rafters of the gymnasium, whence it
came clattering down, both lads laughing gleefully.
"We're going to see the country this time, and we shan't have to
sleep out in an open canvas wagon, either."
"I imagine the life will be different. Perhaps we shall not have
so much fun, but we'll have the satisfaction of knowing that we
are part of a real show. It will mean a lot to us to be with an
organization like that. It will give us a better standing in the
profession, and possibly by another season we may be able to get
with one of the really big ones. Next spring, if we have good
luck, we shall have finished with our school here. If they'll
have us, we'll try to join out with one of them. In the meantime
we must work hard, Teddy, so we shall be in fine shape when we
join out two weeks from today. Come on; I'll wrestle you a
few falls."
Phil promptly threw off his coat and vest. A few minutes later
the lads were struggling on the wrestling mat, their faces
dripping with perspiration, their supple young figures twisting
and turning as each struggled for the mastery of the other.
The readers of the preceding volume in this series, entitled,
The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings, will recognize Phil and
Teddy at once as the lads who had so unexpectedly joined the Sparling
Combined Shows the previous summer. It was Phil who, by his
ready resourcefulness, saved the life of the wife of the owner of
the show as well as that of an animal trainer later on. Then,
too, it will be remembered how the lad became the fast friend of the
great elephant Emperor, which he rescued from "jail," and with
which he performed in the ring to the delight of thousands.
Ere the close of the season both boys had won their way to the
flying rings, thus becoming full-fledged circus performers.
Before leaving the show they had signed out for another season
at a liberal salary.
With their savings, which amounted to a few hundred dollars, the
boys had returned to their home at Edmeston, there to put in the
winter at school.
That they might lose nothing of their fine physical condition,
the Circus Boys had rented an old carpenter shop, which they
rigged up as a gymnasium, fitting it with flying rings, trapeze
bars and such other equipment as would serve to keep them in trim
for the coming season's work.
Here Phil and Teddy had worked long hours after school.
During the winter they had gained marked improvement in
their work, besides developing some entirely new acts on
the flying rings. During this time they had been living with
Mrs. Cahill, who, it will be remembered, had proved herself a
real friend to the motherless boys.
Now, the long-looked-for day was almost at hand when they should
once more join the canvas city for a life in the open.
The next two weeks were busy ones for the lads, with their
practice and the hard study incident to approaching examinations.
Both boys passed with high standing. Books were put away,
gymnasium apparatus stored and one sunlit morning two slender,
manly looking young fellows, their faces reflecting perfect
health and happiness, were at the railroad station waiting for
the train which should bear them to the winter quarters of
the show.
Fully half the town had gathered to see them off, for Edmeston
was justly proud of its Circus Boys. As the train finally drew
up and the lads clambered aboard, their school companions set up
a mighty shout, with three cheers for the Circus Boys.
"Don't stick your head in the lion's mouth, Teddy!" was the
parting salute Phil and Teddy received from the boys as the train
drew out.
"Well, Teddy, we're headed for the Golden Gate at last!"
glowed Phil.
"You bet!" agreed Teddy with more force than elegance.
"I wonder if old Emperor will remember me, Teddy?"
"Sure thing! But, do you think that 'fool mule,' as Mr. Sparling
calls him, will remember me? Or will he want to kick me full of
holes before the season has really opened?"
"I shouldn't place too much dependence on a mule," laughed Phil.
"Come on; let's go inside and sit down."