By this time night had fallen. With it came even greater confusion, while torches flared up here and there to light the scene of bustle and excitement.

It was all very confusing to Phil, and he was in constant fear of being run down by switching engines that were shunting cars back and forth as fast as they were loaded, rapidly making up the circus train. The Circus Boy wondered if he ever could get used to being with a railroad show.

"I must be getting back or I shall not be able to find number eleven," decided Phil finally. "I really haven't the least idea where it is now."

The huge canvas-covered wagons stood up in the air like a procession of wraiths of the night, muttered growls and guttural coughs issuing from their interiors. All this was disturbing to one not used to it.

Phil started on a run across the tracks in search of his car.

In the meantime Teddy Tucker, finding himself alone, had sauntered forth to watch the loading, and when he ventured abroad trouble usually followed.

The lad soon became so interested in the progress of the work that he was excitedly shouting out orders to the men, offering suggestions and criticisms of the way they were doing that work.

Now, most of the men in the labor gang were new--that is, they had not been with the Sparling show the previous season, and hence did not know Teddy by sight. After a time they tired of his running fire of comment. They had several times roughly warned him to go on about his business. But Teddy did not heed their advice, and likewise forgot all about that which Phil had given him earlier in the evening.

He kept right on telling the men how to load the circus, for, if there was one thing in the world that Teddy Tucker loved more than another it was to "boss" somebody.

All at once the lad felt himself suddenly seized from behind and lifted off his feet. At the same time a rough hand was clapped over his mouth.

The Circus Boy tried to utter a yell, but he found it impossible for him to do so. Teddy kicked and fought so vigorously that it was all his captor could do to hold him.

"Come and help me. We'll fix the fresh kid this time," called the fellow in whose grip the lad was struggling.

"What's the matter, Larry? Is he too much for you?" laughed the other man.

"He's the biggest little man I ever got my fists on. Gimme a hand here."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I'll show you in a minute."

"Maybe he's with the show. He's slippery enough to be a performer."

"No such thing. And I don't care if he is. I'll teach him not to interfere with the men. Grab hold and help me carry him."

Together they lifted the kicking, squirming, fighting boy, carrying him on down the tracks, not putting him down until they had reached the standpipe of a nearby water tank, where the locomotives took on their supply of fresh water.

"Jerk that spout around!" commanded Larry, sitting down on Tucker with a force that made the lad gasp.

"Can't reach the chain."

"Then get a pike pole, and be quick about it. The foreman will be looking for us first thing we know. If he finds us here he'll fire us before we get started."

"See here, Larry, what are you going to do?" demanded the other suspiciously.

"My eyes, but you're inquisitive! Going to wash the kid down.

Next time mebby he won't be so fresh."

And "wash" they did.

Suddenly the full stream from the standpipe spurted down.

Larry promptly let go of his captive. Teddy was right in the path of the downpour, and the next instant he was struggling in the flood.

The showman dropped him and started to run.

Teddy let out a choking howl, grasping frantically for his tormentor.

A moment later the lad's hands closed over Larry's ankles, and before the man was able to free himself from the boy's grip Teddy had pulled him down and dragged him under the stream that was pouring down in a perfect deluge. The Circus Boy, being strong and muscular, was able to accomplish this with slight exertion.

Larry's companion was making no effort to a.s.sist his fallen comrade.

Instead, the fellow was howling with delight.

No sooner, however, had Teddy raised the man and slammed him down on his back under the spout, than the lad let go of his victim and darted off into the shadows. Teddy realized that it was high time he was leaving.

The man, fuming with rage, uttering loud-voiced threats of vengeance, scrambled out of the flood and began rushing up and down the tracks in search of Teddy.

But the boy was nowhere to be found. He had hastily climbed over a fence, where he crouched, dripping wet, watching the antics of the enraged Larry.

"Guess he won't bother another boy right away," grinned Teddy, not heeding his own wet and bedraggled condition.

The two showmen finally gave up their quest, and all at once started on a run in the opposite direction.

"Now, I wonder what's made them run away like that? Surely they aren't scared of me. I wonder? Guess I'll go over and find out."

Leaving his hiding place, the lad retraced his steps across the tracks until finally, coming up with a man, who proved to be the superintendent of the yard, Teddy asked him where sleeping car number eleven was located.

"Eleven? The sleepers have all gone, young man."

"G-g-gone?"

"Yes."

"But I thought--"

"Went out regular on the 9:30 express."

Teddy groaned. Here he was, left behind before the show had all gotten away from its winter quarters. But he noted that the train bearing the cages and other equipment was still in the yard. There was yet a chance for him.

"Wha--what time does that train go?" he asked pointing to the last section.

"Going now. Why, what's the matter with you youngster?

The train is moving now."

"Going? The matter is that I've got to go with them," cried the lad, suddenly darting toward the moving train.

"Come back here! Come back! Do you want to be killed?"

"I've got to get on that train!" Teddy shouted back at the superintendent.