"
"There has, Teddy. I'm already a showman. You come with me. Mr.
Sparling wants to speak with you. Don't be afraid of him. He
talks as if he was mad all the time, but I'm sure he isn't."
Grasping Teddy by the arm Phil rushed him into Mr. Sparling's
tent, entering this time without knocking.
"This is my friend whom I spoke to you about," announced Phil,
thrusting Teddy up before the showman.
Mr. Sparling eyed the lad suspiciously.
"Want to join out, too, eh?"
"I--I'd like to," stammered Teddy.
"Do your parents approve of your going with a show?"
"I--I don't know, sir."
"You'd better find out, then. Ask them mighty quick. This is no
camp meeting outfit that plays week stands."
"Can't."
"Why not?"
" 'Cause they're dead."
"Huh! Why didn't you say so before?"
"You didn't ask me."
"You're too smart, young man."
"Takes a smart man to be a circus man, doesn't it?"
"I guess you're right at that," answered the showman, his stern
features relaxing into a smile. "You'll do. But you'd better
not hand out that line of sharp talk in bunches when you get with
the show. It might get you into trouble if you did.
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