"Get the suit," commanded a voice. "He's It."
Somebody hurried to the property room, returning with a full
rubber 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 the
real 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 of
the 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 the
powder 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 moments
he had grown so large that he could not see his own feet,
while the hood about his head left only a small portion of his
face visible.
"Monster!" hissed a clown, shaking a fist in Teddy's face.
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