The bass drummer paid no attention to him.Instead he grabbed the offending boy by the feet, bracing his own feet against the rim of the instrument, and began to pull.The drummer was red in the face,perspiring and angry.
Teddy popped out like a pea from a pod.The Circus Boy was not yet out of his trouble.With unlooked-for strength the irate drummer threw the lad over his knees, face down, and raised the drumstick aloft.
This drumstick, as our readers well know, is made of heavy leather-- that is the beating end is--and is hard.To add to the distress of the victim, Teddy was in his pink pajamas and they were thin.
Whack!
The stick came down with more force than seemed necessary."Ouch!Stop it!I'll pay you back for keeps for that!" Whack!
"Oh, Phil!" Teddy was making desperate efforts to squirm away now, but his position was such that he was unable to bring his full strength to bear on the task.
The stick was raised for another blow, but there came an interruption that took all thought of continuing the punishment out of the mind of the angry drummer.
"Stop it!I don't want to be a drum!" howled the boy.Splash!
A pitcher of water was emptied over the drummer's head, a large part of the water running down and soaking Teddy to the skin, causing that young gentleman to howl lustily.
It gave the boy the opportunity he was looking for, however.With a quick twist he wrenched himself free from the grasp of the drummer, dropped on all fours and was up and away, a pink streak along the port side of the "Fat Marie."Phil had come to the rescue of his companion.He now jerked the window shut and slammed the blind in place, after which he quickly got into his clothes, fully expecting that he should have a call from the bass drummer.
There was a great uproar on deck about that time, with much shouting and unintelligible language--at least unintelligible to Phil.
Before he had finished dressing, Teddy came skulking in, rubbing himself and muttering threats as to what he proposed to do tothedrummer.
"You did it!You did!" he shouted, pointing a finger at Phil Forrest."It strikes me that you did something, too--""No I didn't.Something was done to me.I had on my pajamas, too," wailed the boy."I'm glad you soaked him, though.Why didn't you throw the pitcher at him, too?""Oh, no, it might have hurt him, Teddy."
"Hurt him?Pshaw!Maybe the drumstick didn't hurt me.Oh, no!" "Well, get dressed.I will go out and see if I can pour oil on the troubled waters.You stay here.I don't want you mixing it up with thedrummer.I'll attend to him."
Phil first hunted up Mr.Sparling, whom he found shaving in his cabin."Why good morning, Phil.Why this early call?""I called to ask you what a new set of heads will cost for the bass drum?""I think they are worth about fifteen dollars.Why do you ask?" "Because Teddy and myself have just smashed the heads out of the onebelonging to the band."
Mr.Sparling paused in his shaving long enough to glance keenly at Phil.There was a twinkle in his eyes.He knew that his Circus Boys had been up to some mischief.Phil was as solemn as an owl.
"It was this way," explained the lad, as he related how the accident had occurred.
Mr.Sparling sat down and laughed.
"Never mind the drum heads.We have others for just such an emergency, I do not mind a little fun once in a while.We all have to blow off steam sometimes.""No, sir; we shall pay for the drum heads.To whom does the drum belong?""The drummer, I think." "Very well; thank you."Phil hastily withdrew from the cabin and hurried back to his own stateroom.
"Teddy," he said, "I want seven-fifty from you.""What's that?"
"Seven dollars and a half, please."
Teddy began pawing over his trousers.All at once he paused, looking up at Phil suspiciously.
"You want to borrow seven-fifty, do you?" "No, I want you to contribute it.""To what?" "To the fund."
"What fund?What are you talking about?"
"Those drum heads are worth fifteen dollars and we are going to pay the owner of the drum for the damage we did.I will give half and you half.""What!" shrieked Teddy."Come, pay up!"
"What! Give that fellow money when he's taken more than twenty- five dollars worth out of my hide? I guess not! What kind of an easy mark do you think I am?Pay him yourself.You did it.""Teddy, do you want me to give you a good thrashing, right here and now?""You can't do it.You never could," returnedTeddy, belligerently."Come, hand out the money!"Teddy eyed his companion for a full minute; then, thrusting a hand slowly into his own trousers' pocket, brought forth a goodly roll of bills from which he counted off eight dollars.
"Tell him to keep the change."
"I will, thank you," said Phil with a merry twinkle in his eyes.
"It's like taking candy out of the mouth of a babe.I'll get more than eight dollars' worth out of that bass--he's baser than he is bass.Bass sounds like a fish, doesn't it--out of that bass drummer when I get a good fair chance at him.Sometime when he isn't looking, you know.I wonder if he could be the fellow who stole my egg?" questioned Teddy reflectively.
Phil went out laughing, to make his peace with the drummer.
