Teddy was among the number.
Three elephants were lined up, then a fourth and a fifth.
"I hope he isn't going to try that," growled Mr. Sparling,
noting that the lad was waiting his turn to get up on
the springboard. "Not many of them can get away with
that number. I suppose I ought to go over and stop the boy.
But I guess he won't try to jump them. He'll probably walk
across their backs, the same as he has seen the other clowns do."
Teddy, however, had a different plan in mind. He had espied
Mr. Sparling looking at him from across the tent, and he proposed
to let the owner see what he really could do.
For a moment the lad poised at the top of the springboard,
critically measuring the distance across the backs of the
assembled elephants.
"Go on, go on!" commanded the director. "Do you think this show
can wait on your motion all day? Jump, or get off the board!"
"Say, who's doing this you or I?" demanded Teddy in well-feigned
indignation, and in a voice that was audible pretty much all over
the tent.
This drew a loud laugh from the spectators, who were now in a
frame of mind to laugh at anything the Fat Boy did.
"It doesn't look as if anyone were doing anything.
Somebody will be in a minute, if I hear any more of your talk,"
snapped the director.
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