“Yes, sir.”
“Going in in costume, today?”
“No, sir. Mr. Sparling thought I had better wear my own clothes today, for advertising purposes.”
Miaco nodded understandingly.
“Then you’ll want to fix up again. Been in the gutter?”
“I fell into a ditch in the darkness this morning,” grinned Phil.
“You’ll get used to that. Mr. Ducro, the ringmaster, carries a lantern with him so he won’t fall in, but none of the rest of us do. We call him Old Diogenes because he always has a lantern in his hand. If you’ll take off that suit I’ll put it in shape for you.”
“Undress—here?”
“Sure. You’ll have to get used to that.”
Phil retired to the further end of the tent where his trunk had been placed in the meantime, and there took off his clothes, handing them to the head clown. Mr. Miaco tossed the lad a bath robe, for the morning was still chilly.