"h.e.l.lo, who are you?" demanded one of the men, as Phil and Teddy stepped in through the rear door of the coach.

"Good evening, boys," greeted Phil easily.

All eyes were turned on the newcomers.

"Howdy, fellows," said Teddy good-naturedly.

"Fine, large evening."

Everybody laughed.

"Are you the boys who joined out today, from back with the show?"

asked Conley.

"Yes. Let me introduce myself. I am Phil Forrest and this, my companion, is Teddy Tucker. We're green as gra.s.s, and we shall have to impose upon your good nature to set us straight."

The Circus Boys had won the good opinion of the men of Car Three at the outset.

"That's the talk," agreed Billy. "Line up here and I'll introduce you to the bunch. The skinny fellow over there by the boiler is Chief Rain-in-the-Face. The one next to him is Slivers. The freakish looking gentleman standing at my right is Krao, the Missing Link. On my left is Baby Egawa--"

"Otherwise known as Rosie the Pig," added a voice.

"Everybody on an advance car has a nickname, you know.

You'll forget your real names, if you stay on an advance car long enough. I couldn't remember mine if I didn't get a letter occasionally to remind me of it, and sometimes I almost feel as if I was opening another fellow's letters when I open my own."

"Glad to know you, boys," smiled Phil. "Do you know where we are to sleep?"

"See that pile of paper up there?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's that or the floor for yours. All the rest of the berths are occupied, unless the Boss is going to let you sleep in the office with him."

"I rather think he will not invite us. He seems to be in a huff about something tonight," answered Phil dryly, at which there was a loud laugh.

"What's this Johnnie Bull tells me about a roughhouse in the office this afternoon?" demanded Conley suddenly.

"I would rather not talk about that," replied Phil, coloring.

"Come here, you Englishman, and tell us all about it. Our friend is too modest."

The porter did not respond quickly enough to suit the men so they pounced upon him and tossed him to the top of a pile of paper.

"Now, talk up, or its the paste can for yours," they demanded.

Henry rather haltingly described what he had seen in the stateroom that afternoon, describing in detail how Phil had worsted the manager of the car.

When the recital had been concluded, all hands turned and surveyed Phil curiously.

"Well, who would have thought it?" wondered Rosie, in an awed voice.

Krao, the Missing Link, and Baby Egawa sidled up to Phil and gingerly felt his arm muscles.

"Woof!" exclaimed the Baby. "Bad medicine! Heap big muscle!"

"That's so. I had forgotten you boys were performers back with the show," nodded Billy. "What are you up here for--learning this end of the business?"

"Yes; that is what we are here for," answered Phil.

"Mr. Sparling wished us to do so."

"You have come to a good place to learn it," emphasized Conley.

"But you'll have to fight your way through. You have done a mighty good job in downing the Boss, but look out for him.

He'll never forget it. If he doesn't get you fired, he will get even with you in some other way."

Phil laughed.

"I'll do my duty. But I am not afraid of him. Are all car managers like Mr. Snowden?"

"Most of them. Some better, some worse. They think they are not doing their duty, earning their meal-tickets, unless they are Roaring Jakes. But Snowden is the worst ever. He has the meanest disposition of any man I ever knew. This is his first season on Number Three, and I shouldn't be surprised if it were his last. I hear Boss Sparling doesn't take to him.

Know anything about that?"

Phil shook his head.

"Why do you let him treat you as he does?"

"Let him? Well, I'll tell you confidentially. Most of us have families to support. Some of us have wives; others mothers and sisters to look after. It's put up with the roast or get out.

And let me tell you, the Boss isn't slow about closing out a fellow he doesn't like. He'll fire you at the drop of the hat."

"I'm hungry; where do we eat?" interrupted Teddy.

"Eat?"

"Sure! Don't you fellows in advance eat?"

"Well, we go through the motions. That's about all I can say for it. This living at contract hotels isn't eating; it isn't even feeding. You folks back with the show don't have to put up with contract hotels; you eat under the cook tent and you get real food."

"What's a contract hotel?" asked Teddy.

Phil looked at his companion in disgust.

"Teddy Tucker, haven't you been in the show business long enough to know what a contract hotel is?"

Teddy shook his head.

"I'll tell you, I'll explain what a contract hotel is,"

said Billy. "The contracting agent goes over the route in the spring and makes the arrangements for the show. He engages the livery rigs to take the men out on the country routes, and when he gets through with the livery stable business he hunts up all the almost food places in town until he finds one that will feed the advance car men for five or ten cents a meal. Then he signs a contract and goes off to a real hotel for his own meal.

Oh, no, Mr. Contracting Agent doesn't get his meals there.

Well, we're booked to eat at one of those almost food places in every town we make. And some of them are not even 'almost.'

We are going to one of the kind now. Want to come along?"