CHAPTER II

  ON THE ROAD ONCE MORE

  All was bustle and excitement.

  Men were rushing here and there, shouting out hoarse commands.Elephants were trumpeting shrilly, horses neighing; while, frommany a canvas-wrapped wagon savage beasts of the jungle wereemitting roar upon roar, all voicing their angry protest at beingremoved from the winter quarters where they had been at rest forthe past six months.

  The Great Sparling Combined Shows were moving out for their longsummer's journey. The long trains were being rapidly loaded whenPhil Forrest and Teddy Tucker arrived on the scene late inthe afternoon.

  It was all new and strange to them, unused as they were to theways of a railroad show. Their baggage had been sent on ahead ofthem, so they did not have that to bother with. Each carried asuitcase, however, and the boys were now trying to find someonein authority to ask where they should go and what they should do.

  "Hello, Phil, old boy!" howled a familiar voice.

  "Who's that?" demanded Teddy.

  "Why, it's Rod Palmer, our working mate on the rings!" criedPhil, dropping his bag and darting across the tracks, where hehad espied a shock of very red hair that he knew could belongonly to Rodney Palmer.

  Teddy strolled over with rather more dignity.

  "Howdy?" he greeted just as Phil and the red-haired boy werewringing each other's hands. "Anybody'd think you two were longlost brothers."

  "We are, aren't we, Rod?" glowed Phil.

  "And we have been, ever since you boys showed me the brook whereI 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 infine condition. Quite a little lighter than you were lastseason, 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 savedmost 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 thesame," replied Phil. "I saw many worse ones while we were outlast season."

  "And you'll see a lot more this season. Wait till we get toplaying some of those way-back western towns. I was out therewith a show once, and I know what I'm talking about. Where areyou 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 shallI 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 elegantcar this season. He's living high, I tell you. No more sleepingout in an old wagon that has no springs. It will be great to getinto 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 italtogether, 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 wantto catch him. He's hard to land today. There's a lot for him tolook after."

  "Yes; come on, Teddy. Get your grip," said Phil, hurrying overto 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 doorand entered.

  Mr. Sparling was seated at a roll-top desk in an office-likecompartment, frowning over some document that he held inhis hand.

  The boys waited until he should look up. He did so suddenly,peering at them from beneath his heavy eyebrows. Phil was notsure, from the showman's expression, whether he had recognizedthem or not. Mr. Sparling answered this question almost at once.

  "How are you, Forrest? Well, Tucker, I suppose you've come backprimed 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 everyline 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 almostdisconcerting suddenness.

  "Ouch!" howled Teddy, writhing under the grip the showman gavehim, 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 heresomewhere, 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 willfind out at once."

  The showman consulted a typewritten list.

  "You are both in car number eleven. The porter will show you theberths that have been assigned to you, and I hope you will bothobey 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'llbe falling off the platform some night, get under the wheels andwreck 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 getsettled now. You understand that you will keep your berthall season, don't you?"

  "Yes, sir. What time do we go out?"

  "One section has already gone. The next and last will leavetonight about ten o'clock. We want to make an early start, forthe labor is all green. It'll take three times as long to put upthe rag as usual."

  "The rag? What's the rag?" questioned Teddy.

  "Beg pardon," mocked Mr. Sparling. "I had forgotten that you arestill a Reuben. A rag is a tent, in show parlance."

  "Oh!"

  "Any orders after we get settled?" asked Phil.

  "Nothing for you to do till parade time tomorrow. You will lookto the same executives that you did last year. There has been nochange in them."

  The lads hurried from the private car, and after searching aboutthe railroad yard for fully half an hour they came upon carnumber eleven. This was a bright, orange-colored car with thename of the Sparling Shows painted in gilt letters near the roof,just under the eaves. The smell of fresh paint was everywhere,but the wagons being covered with canvas made it impossible forthem to see how the new wagons looked. There were many of theseloaded on flat cars, with which the railroad yard seemed tobe filled.

  "Looks bigger than Barnum & Bailey's," nodded Teddy,feeling a growing pride that he was connected with so greatan organization.

  "Not quite, I guess," replied Phil, mounting the platform ofnumber eleven.

  The boys introduced themselves to the porter, who showed themto their berths. These were much like those in the ordinarysleepe
r, except that the upper berths had narrow windows lookingout from them. Across each berth was stretched a strong pieceof twine.

  Phil asked the porter what the string was for.

  "To hang your trousers on, sah," was the enlightening answer."There's hooks for the rest of your clothes just outsidethe berths."

  "This looks pretty good to me," said Phil, peering out throughthe screened window of his berth.

  "Reminds me of when I used to go to sleep in the woodbox behindthe stove where I lived last year in Edmeston," grumbled Teddyin a muffled voice, as he rummaged about his berth trying toaccustom himself to it. Teddy never had ridden in a sleepingcar, so it was all new and strange to him.

  "Say, who sleeps upstairs?" he called to the porter.

  "The performers, sah--some of them. This heah is the performers'car, sah."

  "How do they get up there? On a rope ladder?"

  Phil shouted.

  "You ninny, this isn't a circus performance. No; of course theydon't climb up on a rope ladder as if they were starting atrapeze act."

  "How, then?"

  "The porter brings out a little step ladder, and it's just likewalking upstairs, only it isn't."

  "Huh!" grunted Teddy. "Do they have a net under them all night?"

  "A net? What for?"

  "Case they fall out of bed."

  "Put him out!" shouted several performers who were engaged insettling themselves in their own quarters. "He's too new forthis outfit."

  Phil drew his companion aside and read him a lecture on notasking so many questions, advising Teddy to keep his ears andeyes open instead.

  Teddy grumbled and returned to the work of unpacking his bag.

  Inquiry for their trunks developed the fact that they would haveto look for these in the baggage car; that no trunks were allowedin the sleepers.

  Everything about the car was new and fresh, the linen white andclean, while the wash room, with its mahogany trimmings, plateglass mirrors and upholstered seats, was quite the most elaboratething that Teddy had ever seen.

  He called to Phil to come and look at it.

  "Yes, it is very handsome. I am sure we shall get to be veryfond of our home on wheels before the season is ended. I'm goingout now to see if our trunks have arrived."

  Phil, after some hunting about, succeeded in finding the baggageman of the train, from whom he learned that the trunks hadarrived and were packed away in the baggage car.

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

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

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

  The huge canvas-covered wagons stood up in the air like aprocession of wraiths of the night, muttered growls and gutturalcoughs issuing from their interiors. All this was disturbing toone 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, hadsauntered forth to watch the loading, and when he ventured abroadtrouble usually followed.

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

  Now, most of the men in the labor gang were new--that is, theyhad not been with the Sparling show the previous season, andhence did not know Teddy by sight. After a time they tired ofhis running fire of comment. They had several times roughlywarned him to go on about his business. But Teddy did not heedtheir advice, and likewise forgot all about that which Phil hadgiven 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 morethan another it was to "boss" somebody.

  All at once the lad felt himself suddenly seized from behind andlifted off his feet. At the same time a rough hand was clappedover his mouth.

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

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

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

  "He's the biggest little man I ever got my fists on. Gimme ahand 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 bea performer."

  "No such thing. And I don't care if he is. I'll teach him notto 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 theyhad reached the standpipe of a nearby water tank, where thelocomotives took on their supply of fresh water.

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

  "Can't reach the chain."

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

  "See here, Larry, what are you going to do?" demanded theother 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 thepath of the downpour, and the next instant he was struggling inthe flood.

  The showman dropped him and started to run.

  Teddy let out a choking howl, grasping frantically for histormentor.A moment later the lad's hands closed over Larry's ankles, andbeforethe man was able to free himself from the boy's grip Teddy hadpulledhim down and dragged him under the stream that was pouring downin aperfect deluge. The Circus Boy, being strong and muscular, wasableto accomplish this with slight exertion.

  Larry's companion was making no effort to assist his fallencomrade.Instead, the fellow was howling with delight.

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

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

  But the boy was nowhere to be found. He had hastily climbed overa fence, where he crouched, dripping wet, watching the antics ofthe 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 oncestarted on a run in the opposite direction.

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

  Leaving his hiding place, the lad retraced his steps across thetracks until finally, coming up with a man, who proved to be thesuperintendent of the yard, Teddy asked him where sleeping carnumber 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 showhad all gotten away from its winter quarters. But he notedthat the train bearing the cages and other equipment was stillin the yard. There was yet a chance for him.
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  "Wha--what time does that train go?" he asked pointing to thelast 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 thelad, 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 atthe superintendent.

  The great stock cars were rumbling by as the boy drew near thetrack, going faster every moment. By the light of a switch lampTeddy could make out a ladder running up to the roof of one ofthe box cars.

  He could hear the yard superintendent running towardhim shouting.

  "He'll have me, if I don't do something. Then I will be whollyleft," decided Teddy. "I'm going to try it."

  As the big stock car slipped past him the lad sprang up into theair, his eyes fixed on the ladder. His circus training came inhandy here, for Teddy hit the mark unerringly, though it had beenconsiderably above his head. The next second his fingers closedover a rung of the ladder, and there he hung, dangling in theair, with the train now rushing over switches, rapidly gainingmomentum as it stretched out headed for the open country.