"I wonder when we can go to San Francisco?" queried Joe one afternoon, following a particularly hard day. "I want to see that shipping agent, and ask him if he can give me any clue to my father."
"Maybe we'd better speak to Mr. Ringold," suggested Blake, and they did, with the result that the theatrical man informed them that the end of the week would be free, as he had to wait for some costumes to arrive before he could produce any more dramas.
"I want to get a good wreck scene," he said, "and that is going to be rather hard."
"Will it be a real wreck scene?" asked Joe.
"Yes, as real as we can make it. I'm negotiating now for an old schooner that I can scuttle out at sea. All the company will be aboard, and they'll drift about for a long time without food and water."
"Am I supposed to be in on that?" asked C. C., suspiciously.
"Of course," was the theatrical man's answer. "This is a circus company returning from abroad that is wrecked, and you are the clown. Be as funny as you can."
"Wrecked?" queried C. C.
"That's it."
"And I'm to be funny?"
