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 do," he growled.
"Yes, sir," answered Phil, smiling.
"Shake hands."
Mr. Sparling thrust out both hands toward them with almost disconcerting suddenness.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy, writhing under the grip the showman gave him, but if Phil got a pressure of equal force he made no sign.
"Where's your baggage?"
"We sent our trunks on yesterday. I presume they are here somewhere, sir."
"If they're not in your car, let me know."
"If you will be good enough to tell me where our car is I will find out at once."
The showman consulted a typewritten list.
"You are both in car number eleven. The porter will show you the berths that have been assigned to you, and I hope you will both obey the rules of the cars."
"Oh, yes, sir," answered Phil.
"I know you will, but I'm not so sure of your fat friend here. I think it might be a good plan to tie him in his berth, or he'll be falling off the platform some night, get under the wheels and wreck the train."
"I don't walk in my sleep," answered Teddy.
"Oh, you don't?"
"I don't."
Mr. Sparling frowned; then his face broke out into a broad smile.
"I always said you were hopeless. Run along, and get settled now. You understand that you will keep your berth all
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