"Yip-yeow!" howled Teddy.
The show people shrieked with delight.
"You'll tie up a Circus Boy, will you?" jeered Teddy. "You'll have to grow some first. No Rube with a bunch of whiskers on his face like that ever lived who could tie up a real circus man."
Teddy had drawn nearer to impress his words upon the pilot, when all of a sudden the man's hands gripped the lad. The boy never had felt quite so strong a grip on his body. Cummings had not handled a pilot wheel on the Mississippi for thirty years without acquiring some strength in hands and arms.
Teddy, failing to pull away, grappled with his antagonist, all in the best of humor, though his face bore its usual solemn expression.
"Gangway," cried Teddy humorously. "I'm going to give him a bath in the river."
Then began a lively scrimmage. Back and forth the combatants struggled across the cabin floor, the growls of the pilot drowned in the shouts and jeers of the performers.
All at once, Teddy tripped his antagonist and the two went down into a heap, rolling under the main table on which the lunch had been spread.
"Look out for the table!" warned a voice.
"Sit on it, some of you fellows, and hold it down!"