"That's right; you know how to obey orders," he nodded. "That's
a good clown makeup. Did Mr. Miaco put those streaks on your
face?"
"No, I sneezed them there," answered Phil, with a sheepish grin.
The assistant laughed heartily. Somehow, he had taken a sudden
liking to this boy.
"Do you live at home, Forrest?"
"No; I have no home now."
"Here's a fish horn. Now get up in the band wagon--no, not the
big one, I mean the clowns' band wagon with the hayrack on it.
When the parade starts blow your confounded head off if you want
to. Make all the noise you can. You'll have plenty of company.
When the parade breaks up, just take off your makeup and turn it
over to Mr. Miaco."
"You mean these clothes?"
"Yes. They're a part of the makeup. You'll have to wash the
makeup off your face. I don't expect you to return the powder to
us," grinned the assistant humorously.
The clowns were climbing to the hayrack. A bugle had blown as a
signal that the parade was ready to move. Phil had not seen
Teddy Tucker since returning to the lot. He did not know where
the boy was, but he was quite sure that Teddy was not missing any
of the fun.
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