"But what about the pilot—what happened to him?"
"May—maybe they have put him out, too."
"You have a way of getting into trouble, Teddy. Mr. Cummings will love you for what you have done to him, I can well imagine."
"About as much as I love him, I guess. He got too bold, Phil. He had to have a lesson and Teddy Tucker was the boy who had to teach it to him. Say, go in and gather me a sandwich out of the wreck, will you?"
"Not I. Go and get your own sandwich. I'm going to see
Mr. Sparling in his cabin. He has sent for me."
Teddy sat out on deck while the others were picking up the table, the dishes and the ruined food. It would not do for Mr. Sparling to come in and see how they had wasted the food he had had prepared for them. The probabilities were that they would get no more, were he to do so. Teddy watched the proceedings narrowly from the safe vantage point of the deck.
In the meantime Phil had gone to Mr. Sparling's cabin, where the showman was checking up the day's receipts.
"A pretty good day, Phil," smiled Mr. Sparling.
"I am glad to hear that, sir."
"Two thousand dollars in the clear, as the result of our two performances today. Do you know of any other business that would pay as much for the amount invested, eh, Phil?"