The days passed, and with them the anger of James
Sparling increased.
"That chum of Forrest's is a funny fellow," continued the first
speaker. "He'd make a good clown?"
"Make? He's one already. Look at him."
Teddy was perched on the back of Jumbo, the trick mule of the
show, out in the paddock, where the performers were indulging in
various strange antics for the purpose of limbering themselves up
prior to entering the ring for their acts.
The bright, warm sunlight was streaming down, picking up little
flames from the glistening spangles sprinkled over the costumes
of many of the circus folks.
Teddy and Jumbo had become fast friends--a strangely assorted
pair, and whenever the opportunity presented itself Teddy would
mount the ugly looking mule, riding him about the paddock or the
ring when there was nothing going on under the big top. Every
time the pair made their appearance it was the signal for a shout
of merriment from the performers.
Teddy had perched himself on Jumbo's back while the mule was
awaiting his turn to enter the ring, which he did alone,
performing his act with nothing save the crack of the
ringmaster's whip to guide him.
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