Phil sprang from the pile of papers on which he had been sleeping, landing lightly on the floor in his bare feet.

"Good morning, Mr. Snowden. I hope you had a good night's sleep," greeted the Circus Boy.

Snowden glared at the lad, as if trying to make up his mind whether or not Phil was making sport of him. But there was only pleasantness in the face of Phil Forrest.

"Huh!" grunted the manager. Then he once more began racing up and down the car, roaring at his men, threatening and expressing his opinion of them in the way with which Phil already had become familiar.

Teddy lay curled up, with one foot protruding from beneath the covers. Whether or not he had done this purposely, it was difficult to decide. Be that as it may, Mr. Snowden caught sight of the pink foot. He rose to the bait like a ba.s.s to a fly.

In another second he had pounced upon the foot. Grabbing it with both hands he gave it a violent tug. Tucker responded.

He came slipping from the "berth," throwing the quilts before him as he did so. The quilts landed over the car manager's head.

Then came Teddy Tucker.

Ted landed, full on Mr. Snowden's head, with a wild yell.

Down went the manager and the Circus Boy, with the latter on top, in a writhing, howling, confused heap.

CHAPTER VII

THE FIRST DAY'S EXPERIENCE

"Give it to him, Teddy!" howled the crew.

Tucker, as soon as he could right himself, sat down on the manager's head, at the same time holding Mr. Snowden's hands pinioned to the floor.

The m.u.f.fled voice under the quilts waxed louder and more angry as the seconds pa.s.sed. Phil, who had gone to the wash room to make his toilet, hurried back at sound of the row.

"Teddy Tucker, what are you doing?" demanded Phil, for the moment puzzled at the scene before him.

"I'm sitting on the Boss," answered Teddy triumphantly. "Shall I give him one for you?"

"Yes--give him two for each of us," shouted the billposters.

Phil strode to his companion, grabbed the lad by the collar of his pajamas and jerked him from the helpless man under the quilts.

"Now, you behave yourself, young man, or you will have to reckon with me," he commanded, pushing Teddy aside.

"You let me alone. This is my inning. I guess I can sit on the Boss, if I want to, without your interfering with the fun."

Giving no heed to the words, Phil quickly hauled the quilts off and a.s.sisted Mr. Snowden to rise.

"I guess Teddy must have fallen on you, sir," suggested Phil solemnly.

"He did it on purpose! He did it on purpose!"

"You pulled him out of bed, did you not, sir?"

"Yes; and next time I'll pull him so he'll know it. Get out of here, every man of you, and get your breakfasts; then get off on your routes. Things are coming to a fine pa.s.s on this car.

Young man, I will talk to you later."

The manager, with red face and angry eye, strode to his stateroom, while the grinning billposters made haste to get into their clothes. A few minutes later, and all hands were on their way to breakfast.

This meal at the new hotel was a slight improvement over the dinner they had eaten the night before. Besides, all hands were in good humor, for they had had more real excitement on Car Three, since the advent of the Circus Boys, than at any time during the season.

By the time they reached the car again six livery teams were in waiting for the men who were to go out on the country routes.

All was instantly bustle and excitement. Paste cans were loaded into the wagons, brushes and pails, together with the paper that had been carefully laid out and counted, the night before, for each billposter. A record of this was kept on the car.

Phil lent a hand at loading the stuff, and they found that the slim lad was stronger than any of them. It was an easy matter for him to lift one of the big cans of paste to a wagon without a.s.sistance. Teddy, however, stood by with hands thrust in pockets, an amused grin on his face.

The baleful eye of the car manager was upon him.

"Have you heard from Mr. Sparling this morning?" asked Phil.

"Yes," answered Mr. Snowden shortly.

"What did he say?"

"That is none of your business, young man."

"You are right. I accept the rebuke. While I am interested, it really is none of my business," answered the lad with a smile.

"Where are you going?"

"You told me to go out on one of the country routes."

"Oh! What route are you going on, if I may ask?"

"I had thought of going with Mr. Conley."

"You will do nothing of the sort. You will go where I tell you to. I--"

"I suggested that he go with me, Mr. Snowden," interposed Billy.

"I have a hard route to work today and I shall need some help if I get over it before dark."

"Very well; go on. I hope he falls off a barn or something.

If he does, leave him."

"For your sake, I shall try to take care of myself," answered Phil with an encouraging smile.

"Tucker!"

"Yes, sir."

"Start a fire under that boiler. Henry, you show him how to manage the boiler and mix the paste. I don't imagine he even knows dough when he sees it."

"I know a dough-head when I see one," spoke up Teddy promptly, after delivering himself of which sentiment he strolled away with hands in his pockets, whistling merrily.