CHAPTER XII

  THE HUMAN FOOTBALL

  "Ever try clowning, young man?" asked the Iron-Jawed Man.

  Teddy Tucker shook his head.

  "Why don't you?"

  "Nobody ever asked me."

  "Then you had better ask the boss to let you try it. Tell himyou want to be a clown and that we will take you in and put youthrough your paces until you are able to go it alone."

  The show had been on the road for nearly two weeks now, and everydepartment was working like a piece of well-oiled machinery.The usual number of minor disasters had befallen the outfitduring the first week, but now everything was system and method.The animals had become used to the constant moving, and to thecrowds and the noise, so that their growls of complaint were few.

  In that time Teddy and Phil had been going through their act onthe flying rings daily, having shown great improvement since theyclosed with the show the previous fall. Their winter's work hadproved of great benefit, and Mr. Sparling had complimented themseveral times lately.

  Teddy was now devoting all his spare time to learning tosomersault and do the leaping act from the springboard.He could, by this time, turn a somersault from the board,though his landing was less certain. Any part of his anatomywas liable to sustain the impact of his fall, but he fell in somany ludicrous positions that the other performers let it go atthat, for it furnished them much amusement.

  However, Teddy's unpopularity in the dressing tent had beenapparent ever since he and the educated mule had made theirsensational entry into that sacred domain, practically wreckingthe place. Teddy and his pet had come near doing the same thingtwice since, and the performers were beginning to believe therewas method in Tucker's madness.

  It had come to the point where the performers refused to remainin the dressing tent while Teddy and the mule were abroad,unless men with pike poles were stationed outside to ward offthe educated mule when he came in from the ring. But Teddydidn't care. The lad was interested in the suggestion of theIron-Jawed Man. Had he known that the suggestion had been madeafter secret conference of certain of the performers, Tuckermight have felt differently about it. There was something in theair, but the Circus Boy did not know it.

  "What kind of clown act would you advise me to get up?" he asked.

  "Oh, you don't have to get it up. We'll do that for you.In fact, there is one act that most all clowns start with, andit will do as well as anything else for you. You see, you haveto get used to being funny, or you'll forget yourself, and thenyou're of no further use as a clown."

  "Yes, I know; but what is the act?"

  "What do you say, fellows--don't you think the human footballwould fit him from the sawdust up?"

  "Just the thing," answered the performers thus appealed to.

  Mr. Miaco, the head clown, was bending over his trunk, his sidesshaking with laughter, but Teddy did not happen to observe him,nor had he noticed that the head clown had had no part inthe conversation.

  "The human football?" questioned Teddy dubiously.

  "Yes."

  "What's that?"

  "Oh, you dress up in funny makeup so you look like a huge ball."

  "But what do I do after I have become a football?"

  "Oh, you roll around in the arena, falling all over yourself andeverybody who happens to get in your way; you bounce up and downand make all sorts of funny--"

  "Oh, I know," cried Teddy enthusiastically. "I saw a fellow dothat in a show once. He would fall on the ground on his back,then bounce up into the air several feet."

  "You've hit it," replied a clown dryly.

  "I remember how all the people laughed and shouted. I'll bet I'dmake a hit doing that."

  "You would!" shouted the performers in chorus.

  The show was playing in Batavia, New York, on a rainy night,with rather a small house expected, so no better time could havebeen chosen for Teddy's first appearance as a clown.

  "Had I better speak to Mr. Sparling about it?"

  "Well, what do you think, fellows?"

  "Oh, no, no! The old man won't care. If you make them laugh,he'll be tickled half to death."

  "What do you say? Is it a go, Tucker?"

  "Well, I'll think about it."

  Teddy strolled out in the paddock, where he walked up and down afew times in the rain. But the more he thought about theproposition, the more enthusiastic he grew. He could see himselfthe center of attraction, and he could almost hear the howls ofdelight of the multitude.

  "They'll be surprised. But I don't believe I had better go onwithout first speaking to Mr. Sparling. He might discharge me.He's had his eye on me ever since the mule tore up thedressing tent. But I won't tell Phil. I'll just give hima surprise. How he'll laugh when he sees me and finds outwho I am."

  Thus deciding, the lad ran through the tents out to the frontdoor, where he asked for Mr. Sparling, knowing that by this timethe owner's tent had been taken down and packed for shipment,even if it were not already under way on the flying squadron.

  He learned that Mr. Sparling was somewhere in the menagerie tent.Hurrying back there, Teddy soon came upon the object ofhis search. At that moment he was standing in front of the cageof Wallace, the biggest lion in captivity, gazing at that shaggybeast thoughtfully.

  "Mr. Sparling," called Teddy.

  The showman turned, shooting a sharp glance at the flushed faceof the Circus Boy.

  "Well, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing is wrong, sir."

  "Come to kick about feed in the cook tent?"

  "Oh, no, no, sir! Nothing like that. I've come to ask a favorof you."

  "Humph! I thought as much. Well, what is it?"

  "I--I think I'd like to be a clown, sir."

  "A clown?" asked the showman, with elevated eyebrows.

  "Yes, sir."

  Mr. Sparling laughed heartily.

  "Why, you're that already. You are a clown, though you may notknow it. You've been a clown ever since you wore long dresses,I'll wager."

  "But I want to be a real one," urged Teddy.

  "What kind of clown?"

  "I thought I'd like to be a human football." This timeMr. Sparling glanced at the boy in genuine surprise.

  "A human football?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "What put that idea into your head?"

  "Some of the fellows suggested it."

  "Ah! I thought so," twinkled Mr. Sparling. "Who, may I ask?"

  "Well, I guess most all of them did."

  "I know, but who suggested it first?"

  "I think the Iron-Jawed Man was the first to say that I ought tobe a clown. He thought I would make a great hit."

  "No doubt, no doubt," snapped the showman in a tone that ledTeddy to believe he was angry about something.

  "May I?"

  Mr. Sparling reflected a moment, raised his eyes and gazed at thedripping roof of the menagerie tent.

  "When is this first appearance to be made, if I may ask?"

  "Oh, tonight. The fellows said it would be a good time, as therewould not be a very big house."

  "Oh, they did, eh? Well, go ahead. But remember you do it atyour own risk."

  "Thank you."

  Teddy was off for the dressing room on a run.

  "I'm It," he cried, bursting in upon them.

  "Get the suit," commanded a voice. "He's It."

  Somebody hurried to the property room, returning with a fullrubber suit, helmet and all. As yet it was merely a bundle.They bade Teddy get into it, all hands crowding about him,offering suggestions and lending their assistance.

  "My, I didn't know I was so popular here," thought the lad,pleased with these unusual attentions. "They must think I'm thereal thing. I'll show them I am, too."

  "Get the pump," directed the Iron-Jawed Man.

  A bicycle pump was quickly produced, and, opening a valve, one ofthe performers began pumping air into the suit.

  "Here, what are you doing?" demanded Teddy.

/>   "Blowing you up--"

  "Here, I don't want to be blown up."

  "With a bicycle pump," added the performer, grinning through thepowder and grease paint on his face.

  "Say, you ought to use that on the press agent!"

  The performers howled at this sally.

  Teddy began to swell out of all proportion to his natural size,as the bicycle pump inflated his costume. In a few momentshe had grown so large that he could not see his own feet,while the hood about his head left only a small portion of hisface visible.

  "Monster!" hissed a clown, shaking a fist in Teddy's face.

  "I guess I am. I'd make a hit as the Fattest Boy on Earth inthis rig, wouldn't I? I'll bet the Living Skeleton will bejealous when he sees me."

  "There, I guess he's pumped up," announced the operator of thebicycle pump.

  "Try it and see," suggested a voice.

  "All right."

  Teddy got a resounding blow that flattened him on the ground.But before he could raise his voice in protest he had bounded tohis feet, and someone caught him, preventing his going right onover the other way.

  The performers howled with delight.

  "He'll do. He'll do," they shouted.

  "Don't you do that again," warned the boy, a little dazed.

  The time was at hand for the clowns to make their owngrand entry.

  "Come on, that's our cue!" shouted one, as the band struck up anew tune.

  "I--I can't run. I'm too fat."

  "We'll help you."

  And they did. With a clown on either side of him, Teddy wasrushed through the silk curtains and out past the bandstand, hisfeet scarcely touching the ground. Part of the time the clownswere half dragging him, and at other times carrying him.

  At first the audience did not catch the significance of it.Straight for ring No. 1 Tucker's associates rushed him.But just as they reached the ring they let go of him.

  Of course Teddy fell over the wooden ring curbing, and wentrolling and bouncing into the center of the sawdust arena.Phil had made his change in the menagerie tent after finishinghis elephant act, and was just entering the big top as Teddymade his sensational entrance. He caught sight of his companionat once.

  "Who's that?" he asked of Mr. Sparling, who was standing at theentrance with a broad grin on his face.

  "That, my dear Phil, is your very good friend, Mr. Teddy Tucker."

  "Teddy? You don't mean it?"

  "Yes; he has decided to be a clown, and I guess he is on the way.The people are kicking on the seats and howling."

  "I should judge, from appearances, that the other clownswere getting even more entertainment out of his act thanis the audience."

  "It certainly looks that way. But let them go. It will doMaster Teddy a whole lot of good."

  A clown jumped to the ring curbing and made a speech about thewonderful human football, announcing at the same time that thechampionship game was about to be played.

  Then they began to play in earnest. Some had slapsticks,others light barrel staves, and with these they began to belaborthe human football, each blow being so loud that it could beheard all over the tent. Of course the blows did not hurtTeddy at all, but the bouncing and buffeting that he got arousedhis anger.

  One clown would pick the lad up and throw him to a companion,who, in turn, would drop him. Then the audience would yellwith delight as the ball bounced to an upright position again.This the clowns kept up until Teddy did not know whether he werestanding on his feet or his head. The perspiration was rollingdown his face, getting into his eyes and blinding him.

  "Quit it!" he howled.

  "Maybe you'll ride the educated mule through the dressingtent again?" jeered a clown.

  "Bring the mule out and let him knock the wind out of therubber man!" suggested another.

  "How do you like being a clown?"

  This and other taunts were shouted at the rubber man, Teddymeanwhile expressing himself with unusual vehemence.

  Mr. Sparling had in the meantime sent a message back tothe paddock. He was holding his sides with laughter, whilePhil himself was leaning against a quarter pole shoutingwith merriment.

  Suddenly there came the sound of a clanging gong, interspersedwith shouts from the far end of the tent.

  The spectators quickly glanced in that direction, and they sawcoming at a rapid rate the little patrol wagon drawn by fourdiminutive ponies, the outfit so familiar to the boys who attendthe circus.

  The clowns were surprised when they observed it, knowing that thepatrol was not scheduled to enter at this time. Their surprisewas even greater when the wagon dashed up and stopped where theywere playing their game of football. Three mock policemen leapedout and rushed into the thick of the mock game.

  As they did so they hurled the clowns right and left, standingsome of them on their heads and beating them with their clubs,which, in this instance, proved to be slapsticks, that made agreat racket.

  This was a part of the act that the clowns had not arranged.It was a little joke that the owner of the show was playingon them. Quick to seize an opportunity to make a hit, Sparlinghad ordered out the show patrol, and the audience, catchingthe significance of it, shouted, swinging their hatsand handkerchiefs.

  The three policemen, after laying the clowns low, grabbed thehelpless human football by the heels, dragging him to the wagonand dumping him in. They dropped the human football in soheavily that it bounced out again and hit the ground. The nexttime, as they threw Teddy in, one of the officers sat on him tohold him.

  The gong set up an excited clanging, and the ponies began racingaround the arena the long way, and took the stretch to thepaddock at a terrific speed, with the howls of the multitudesounding in their ears.

  Reaching the dressing tent, the mock policemen let the air outof the rubber ball, whereat Teddy sat down heavily in a pailof water.

  The performers danced around Tucker, singing an improvised songabout the human football. Gradually the angry scowl on the faceof the Circus Boy relaxed into a broad grin.

  "How do you like being a clown now?" jeered the Iron-Jawed Man.

  "Yes; how does it feel to be a football?" questioned another.

  "I guess you got even with me that time," answered Teddygood-naturedly. "But say, that's easy compared with ridingthe educated mule."