"I would suggest that you divide the band into two parts and havethem play on deck as we approach the next stand," said Phil later thatevening.

　　"I think that a most excellent plan," decided Mr. Sparling. "We willwork it whenever we get in after daylight. It might not be a bad idea totry it tomorrow morning. I'll allow the musicians overtime for it, so thereshould be no objection on their part. We will make a triumphal entry intoDes Moines, providing nothing happens to us in the meantime."Mr. Sparling's face darkened as he thought of the dastardly attemptsthat had been made against his young charges.

　　"I will see the leader before I turn in. You had better go to bed now,Phil. You have been keeping pretty late hours and working unusuallyhard. Good night.""Good night," answered Phil pleasantly.

　　Man and boy had come to be very fond of each other, and PhilForrest could not have felt a more genuine affection for Mr. Sparling hadthe latter been his own father.

　　"A noble fellow," was Mr. Sparling's comment as the youth walkedaway from the cabin.

　　At half-past three o'clock the next morning the boat's passengers wereawakened by the blare of brass, the crash of cymbals and the boom of thebig bass drum.

　　They tumbled out of bed in a hurry, for few of them knew of the planof the owner to give an early morning concert on the deck of the "FatMarie."Teddy Tucker struck the floor of his cabin broadside on.

　　"Wake up, Phil! We're late for the show. It's already begun and herewe are in bed.""Guess again, Teddy," answered Phil sleepily. "Don't you knowwhere you are?""I thought I did, but I don't. Where am I?""In our cabin on the ship.""But the band, the band?""It is playing for the benefit of the natives along the shore.""Oh, pooh! And here I am wide awake. Do you know what time itis?""No.""It is only twenty minutes of four.""In the afternoon? Goodness we are late.""No, in the morning, you ninny. This is a shame. I'll bet that bandconcert was your suggestion, Phil Forrest."Phil admitted the charge.

　　"Then you must take your medicine with the rest of us. Come out ofthat!"One of Phil's feet was peeping out from under the covers. Teddy sawit and grabbed it. Being a strong boy, the mighty tug he gave wasproductive of results.

　　Phil landed on his back on the floor, with a resounding thump and ajolt that made him see stars.

　　"Teddy Tucker, look out; I'm coming!""You had better look out; I'm waiting."The two supple-limbed youngsters met in the middle of the cabin floorand went down together. They were evenly matched, and the muscles oftheir necks stood out like whip cords as they struggled over the floor, eachseeking to get a fall from his antagonist.

　　Teddy managed to roll under the bed, and there they continued theirearly morning battle, but under no slight difficulties. Every time one ofthe gladiators forgot himself and raised his head, he bumped it. Phil triedto force Teddy out from under the bed, but Teddy refused to be forced.

　　"When--when I get you out of here I am going to do something to youthat you won't like, Teddy Tucker," panted Phil.

　　"What--what you going to do to me?""I'm going to pour a pitcher of cold water on your bare feet.""Oh!"The thought of it sent Teddy into a nervous chill. He would rathertake a sound thrashing, at any time, than have that done to him. Now hestruggled more desperately than ever to hold Phil under the bed. At last,however, the boys rolled out and Teddy's shoulders struck the cabin floorwith a bang that sent the pitcher jingling in the wash bowl.

　　Phil sprang up, seized the water pitcher, making a threatening movewith it toward his companion.

　　"Wow! Don't, don't!" howled Teddy.

　　Phil pursued him around the cabin, the water splashing from thepitcher to the floor. Teddy yelling like a wild Indian every time hestepped in the puddles.

　　The window was open and the band was playing just outside.

　　Suddenly a new plan occurred to Teddy--a plan whereby he mightescape from his tormentor.

　　Taking a running start he sprang up, making a clean dive through thewindow head-first.

　　The lad had intended to land on his hands, do a cartwheel and come upeasily on his feet. But the best-laid plans sometimes go wrong.

　　The bass drummer was pounding his drum right in line with thewindow. Teddy did not see the drum until too late to change his course.

　　His head hit the drum with a bang. He went clear through it, his headprotruding from the other side. And there he stuck!

　　"Oh, wow!" howled the Circus Boy.

　　The other members of the band, discovering that the drum was nolonger marking time for them, got out of tune and came to a discordantstop.

　　The leader, whose side had been toward the drummer at the time, didnot know what had happened. He was furious. He was about toupbraid them when he discovered the head of Teddy Tucker protrudingfrom the head of the drum.

　　"Wha--wha--what--"The bass drummer paid no attention to him. Instead he grabbed theoffending boy by the feet, bracing his own feet against the rim of theinstrument, and began to pull. The drummer was red in the face............