Teddy,
in the meantime, had dragged himself from beneath the heap and
slunk out from under the broken platform. He lost no time in
escaping to the paddock, but the bandmaster, espying him, started
after the lad, waving his baton threateningly.
No sooner had Teddy gained the seclusion of the dressing tent
than James Sparling burst in.
"Where's that boy? Where's that boy?"
"Here he is," grinned a performer, thrusting Teddy forward, much
against the lad's inclinations.
Mr. Sparling surveyed him with narrow eyes.
"You young rascal! Trying to break up my show, are you?"
"N-no--sir."
"Can you do that again, do you think?"
"I--I don't know."
"That's the greatest Rube mule act that ever hit a sawdust ring.
I'll double your salary if you think you can get away with it
every performance," fairly shouted the owner.
"I--I'm willing if the mule is," stammered Teddy somewhat
doubtfully.
As a result the lad left his job in the cook tent, never to
return to it. After many hard knocks and some heavy falls he
succeeded in so mastering the act that he was able to go through
with it without great risk of serious injury to himself.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202