"Why good morning, Phil. Why this early call?"
"I called to ask you what a new set of heads will cost for the bass drum?"
"I think they are worth about fifteen dollars. Why do you ask?"
"Because Teddy and myself have just smashed the heads out of the one belonging to the band."
Mr. Sparling paused in his shaving long enough to glance keenly at Phil. There was a twinkle in his eyes. He knew that his Circus Boys had been up to some mischief. Phil was as solemn as an owl.
"It was this way," explained the lad, as he related how the accident had occurred.
Mr. Sparling sat down and laughed.
"Never mind the drum heads. We have others for just such an emergency, I do not mind a little fun once in a while. We all have to blow off steam sometimes."
"No, sir; we shall pay for the drum heads. To whom does the drum belong?"
"The drummer, I think."