The Circus Boys Across The Continent | Page 6

were being rapidly loaded when Phil
Forrest and Teddy Tucker arrived on the scene late in the afternoon.
It was all new and strange to them, unused as they were to the ways of
a railroad show. Their baggage had been sent on ahead of them, so they
did not have that to bother with. Each carried a suitcase, however, and
the boys were now trying to find someone in authority to ask where
they should go and what they should do.
"Hello, Phil, old boy!" howled a familiar voice.
"Who's that?" demanded Teddy.
"Why, it's Rod Palmer, our working mate on the rings!" cried Phil,
dropping his bag and darting across the tracks, where he had espied a
shock of very red hair that he knew could belong only to Rodney
Palmer.
Teddy strolled over with rather more dignity.

"Howdy?" he greeted just as Phil and the red-haired boy were wringing
each other's hands. "Anybody'd think you two were long lost brothers."
"We are, aren't we, Rod?" glowed Phil.
"And we have been, ever since you boys showed me the brook where I
could wash my face back in that tank town where you two lived. That
was last summer. Seems like it was yesterday."
"Yes, and we work together again, I hear? I'm glad of that. I guess
you've been doing something this winter," decided Rodney, after a
critical survey of the lads. "You sure are both in fine condition. Quite a
little lighter than you were last season, aren't you, Phil?"
"No; I weigh ten pounds more."
"Then you must be mighty hard."
"Hard as a keg of nails, but I hope not quite so stiff," laughed Phil.
"What you been working at?"
"Rings, mostly. We've done some practicing on the trapeze. What did
you do all winter?"
"Me? Oh, I joined a team that was playing vaudeville houses. I was the
second man in a ring act. Made good money and saved most of it. Why
didn't you join out for the vaudeville?"
"We spent our winter at school," answered Phil.
"That's a good stunt at that. In the tank town, I suppose?" grinned the
red-haired boy.
"You might call it that, but it's a pretty good town, just the same,"
replied Phil. "I saw many worse ones while we were out last season."
"And you'll see a lot more this season. Wait till we get to playing some
of those way-back western towns. I was out there with a show once,

and I know what I'm talking about. Where are you berthed?"
"I don't know," answered Phil. "Where are you?"
"Car number fourteen. Haven't seen the old man, then?"
"Mr. Sparling? No. And I want to see him at once. Where shall I find
him?"
"He was here half an hour ago. Maybe he's in his office."
"Where is that?"
"Private car number one. Yes; the old man has his own elegant car this
season. He's living high, I tell you. No more sleeping out in an old
wagon that has no springs. It will be great to get into a real bed every
night, won't it?"
Teddy shook his head doubtfully.
"I don't know 'bout that."
"I should think it would be pretty warm on a hot night," nodded Phil.
"And what about the rainy nights?" laughed Rodney. "Taking it
altogether, I guess I'll take the Pullman for mine--"
"There goes Mr. Sparling now," interjected Teddy.
"Where?"
"Just climbing aboard a car. See him?"
"That's number one," advised Rodney. "Better skip, if you want to
catch him. He's hard to land today. There's a lot for him to look after."
"Yes; come on, Teddy. Get your grip," said Phil, hurrying over to
where he had dropped his suitcase.

"But it's going to be a great show," called Rodney.
"Especially the flying-ring act," laughed Phil.
A few minutes later both boys climbed aboard the private car, and,
leaving their bags on the platform, pushed open the door and entered.
Mr. Sparling was seated at a roll-top desk in an office-like
compartment, frowning over some document that he held in his hand.
The boys waited until he should look up. He did so suddenly, peering at
them from beneath his heavy eyebrows. Phil was not sure, from the
showman's expression, whether he had recognized them or not. Mr.
Sparling answered this question almost at once.
"How are you, Forrest? Well, Tucker, I suppose you've come back
primed to put my whole show to the bad, eh?"
"Maybe," answered Teddy carelessly.
"Oh, maybe, eh? So that's the way the flag's blowing, is it? Well, you
let me catch you doing it and--stand up here, you two, and let me look
at you."
He gazed long and searchingly at the Circus Boys, noting every line of
their slender, shapely figures.
"You'll