"If no one answers that I'll know there is n.o.body here and I'll see if I can't break the door down."

There was someone there, however, as was made plain a moment later, when the door was thrown suddenly open, revealing the grinning face of Sully, the owner of the show.

"Morning," greeted Phil. "I thought maybe breakfast was being served in the dining car, and I didn't want to miss it."

"You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?"

"So I have been told. But about that breakfast? If you'll kindly conduct me to the wash room, so I can make myself beautiful and prepare for breakfast, I shall be obliged to you."

"Huh!" grunted the showman.

"Where are we?"

"Brant."

"Is this where we show today?"

"Yes, this is where we show today. As if you didn't know that as well as I do."

"I may have heard something to that effect. I don't just remember for the moment. But, how about that breakfast?"

"How do you know you are going to get any breakfast?"

"Because I smelled it a few minutes ago."

"That's my breakfast that your keen nose scented, young man."

"Well, I guess I can stand it for once."

Sully was forced to smile at his young captive's good nature.

So he took Phil by the arm and led him to the wash room, where the showman remained until Phil had completed his preparations for breakfast. Then Sully led the way to a compartment at the rear of the car where a small table had been set.

"This looks good to me," grinned Phil, rubbing his palms together. "You live high in this outfit, don't you?"

The lad ate his breakfast with a will.

"I hope I am not depriving you of your meal?" questioned Phil, glancing up quickly.

"I've had my breakfast. If there had been only enough for one, you'd have gone hungry."

"You don't have to tell me that. I know it. That's about your measure."

"That will be about all from you," snapped the showman.

"The trouble with you is that you can't appreciate decent treatment. You're just like your boss."

"I'll not hear you say a word against Mr. Sparling," bristled Phil, then suddenly checked himself.

"So, I caught you that time, did I?" exclaimed Sully, slapping his thighs and laughing uproariously, while Phil's face grew red with mortification at the slip he had made. "You are not half as smart as you think you are, young man. I'll keep at you until I get out of you all the information I want."

"I'm afraid the show season isn't long enough for you to do that," was the boy's quick retort.

"You'll find out whether it is or not."

"I shall not be with you that long. Now that I have admitted that I have been connected with the Sparling show, what do you think my employer will do when he finds I am missing?"

"Nothing."

"I rather guess he will do something. Wait."

"When does he expect you back?"

Phil looked at the showman, laughing.

"Did I mention that I was expected? I said that when he missed me there would be an inquiry, and there will."

"Little good that will do him," growled the showman.

"Then you don't know James Sparling."

"How'll he know you are here?"

"Trust him to find out, and then--wow! There will be an explosion that you can hear on the other side of the St. Lawrence. Do I take a walk for my health after breakfast?"

"You do."

"Thank you."

"To the other end of the car, to the linen closet, where you are to stay until--"

"Until what?" questioned Phil sharply.

"Until you tell me what I want to know."

"What is it that you wish to know?"

"Why were you sent to spy on my outfit?"

"Perhaps for the same reason that you keep a spy in his camp,"

retorted Phil, bending a keen gaze on the face of his jailer.

Sully's face went violently red. Without another word he grasped Phil roughly by the shoulder, jerked him from the table and hurried the lad down the corridor.

"Here, here, I haven't finished my breakfast yet," protested the boy.

"You have, but you don't know it. You will know in a minute."

With that the showman thrust Phil into the linen closet again and slammed the door.

"My, I wouldn't have a temper like yours if you were to make me a present of a six-pole circus!" called the Circus Boy.