CHAPTER XVI
A BATTLE OF WITS
"The Robinson people, at least, have got to work," muttered theCircus Boy as he made his way downtown. Here and there, at rareintervals, he came across a window bill of the show mentioned.
There were blocks of windows, however, with no billing in them.Phil interpreted this to mean that his own men had secured therequisite permission to place their own bills there.
He smiled as he thought of the little trick. It was an ideaof his own to square locations ahead of the lithographers.Ordinarily, the lithographer made his rounds with a bundle ofbills on his arm. Entering a store he would say, "May I placethis bill in your window?" Phil had adopted the plan of sendingthe men around first. After they had obtained the signedpermission they would go back over the same ground and placethe bills. This took a little more time, but it had the meritof fooling his rivals and getting many more places squared thancould have been done in the old way.
Suddenly a great wall loomed ahead of him.
Phil paused and surveyed it critically.
"Wouldn't I like to fasten Sparling banners all over thatplace, though. What a hit that would be. Why," he addedlooking about him, "it could be seen pretty much allover town."
Phil started on, intending to find out who owned the building.As he did so he saw a man from the canary-colored car enteringthe building. The man was going into a store on theground floor.
"I'll bet he is after that very wall. Oh, pshaw! Why didn't Istay in town and attend to my business, as I should have done,instead of racing over the country at that mad pace? I'm goingover to see what he is up to."
The Circus Boy hurried along. Entering the store he saw theman from the rival car, who proved to be the manager of it,engaged in earnest conversation with a man whom Phil supposedto be the proprietor.
After a little the manager of the other car hurried out.Phil stepped forward.
"Are you the proprietor?" he asked politely.
"Yes; what can I do for you?"
"Do you own this building?"
"No, but I am the agent for it."
"Very good. You are the man I want to talk with. I am from theSparling Shows. I should like the privilege of fastening somebanners on that south wall there."
"You're too late, young man. I just gave the other manpermission to do that."
"Did he pay you?" asked Phil sweetly.
"No."
"Did you sign a contract with him?"
"No."
"May I ask how much he is to give you for the privilege?"
"Twenty-five dollars."
"He ought to be ashamed to offer you such a mean figure as thatfor such a privilege."
The proprietor grew interested.
"Where has he gone?"
"Said he had to talk with someone back with the show by longdistance telephone before he could close the bargain."
Phil glanced apprehensively at the door.
"I guess you had better sell the privilege to me while you havethe chance. He may not come back, you know; then you will be outall around."
"I couldn't think of it. I gave him the privilege of buyingthe wall."
"Money talks, doesn't it, sir?"
"It does, young man. It always makes such a loud noise around methat I can't hear much of anything else."
Phil grinned.
"Yes; it's pretty noisy stuff."
The lad calmly drew a big roll of bills from his pocket, placingit on the counter before the storekeeper. To the pile he addedhis watch, a jackknife, a bunch of keys and a silver matchbox.
"Help yourself," he begged calmly.
"Wha--what?" gasped the storekeeper.
"I said help yourself. I want that wall. I leave it to you tosay what is a reasonable price for it--a price fair to you andto me. You admit that money talks. This money is addressingits remarks to you direct, at this very moment."
The proprietor hesitated, glanced at the money and other articlesthat Phil had arrayed so temptingly before him, and turnedreflectively facing the rear of the store.
"I will scribble off a little contract," said Phil softly."How much shall we make the consideration?"
"What'll you give?"
"I've got him!" was Phil Forrest's triumphant thought, but heallowed none of his triumphant feeling to appear in his face.
"Well, were I making the offer I should say the wall was worthabout forty dollars, no other bills to appear on it untilafter my show has left town. But I told you to help yourself.I'll stick to my word."
"Count me out forty dollars and take it. I like your style.Your way of doing business makes a hit with me."
Phil inserted the agreed-upon price in the contract.
"Just sign your name there, please," he said, still in that soft,persuasive voice.
The storekeeper read the brief contract through, noddedapprovingly, then affixed his signature with the fountain penthat Phil had handed to him.
This done, the lad counted out forty dollars, stowed the restaway in his pockets, together with his other belongings, thenextended his hand cordially to the proprietor.
"Thank you very much," murmured Phil, his face all aglow now.
"You're welcome. When do you put up your bills?"
"At once. We leave town tonight, and we have a lot of work todo first."
"Let's see; were you one of the fellows mixed up in that racethis morning?"
Phil blushed.
"I am afraid I was very much mixed up in it.Well, good afternoon."
The lad turned and started for the door. At that momentsomeone entered. It was the manager of the canary car.
"It's all right. I'll take the location," he announced, smilingbroadly, as he walked rapidly to where the proprietor wasstanding, laying two tens and a five-dollar bill on the counter.
"I--I'm sorry," stammered the storekeeper, flushing. "I havejust sold it to another party."
"Sold it!"
The manager's face went several shades paler.
"Yes."
"To--to whom?"
"To that young gentleman there."
The manager whirled and faced Phil.
"Who--who are you?"
"My name is Forrest," answered Phil, smiling easily. He couldwell afford to smile.
"And you--you have bought this location?"
"I have."
"Whom do you represent?"
"The Sparling Combined Shows."
The Circus Boy's rival flushed angrily.
"I demand that the location be turned over to me instantly!It belongs to me, and I'll have it if I have to fight for it.Here's my money, Mr. Storekeeper. I command you to make outa paper giving me the right to bill that wall."
"I do not think he will do anything of the sort, my dear sir,"spoke up Phil. "I have bought and paid for the location andI propose to hold it. You had no more right to it than anyother man. You did not have the nerve to put down your moneyfor it when you had the chance, and you lost your opportunity.You will see the wall covered with Sparling banners in a veryshort time."
"I will not!"
"Be on your way, my man. Let me tell you the Sparling bannersare going up."
"There's my money!" shouted the manager of the canarycolored car. "The wall is _mine!_"
He dashed out of the store and started for his car on the run.
"If you let those other showmen banner the wall I'll havethe law on you!" announced Phil sternly. Then the CircusBoy ran out of the store, starting off at a lively sprintfor his own car. He caught up with the rival manager ina moment, passed him and bounded on. His rival alreadywas puffing and perspiring under the unusual effort.
"Turn out every man in town!" he called, dashing into the car."Teddy, run to the main street and send everyone of our bannermen and lithographers to the Ward Building. You and Henry carryover there at once all the banners you can scrape together.Do not lose a minute. But wait! I'll telephone the liverymanfor a wagon to carry the paper, br
ushes and paste pots over.You remain here, Henry, and go with the wagon. Teddy, youhustle for the men. Run as if the Rhino from the Sparlingmenagerie were charging you!"
Teddy leaped from the car platform and was off, with Philsprinting after him in long strides.
They passed the manager of the canary colored car just as theywere running across the switches in the railroad yard. He wasonly then getting to his car.