Mr.Sparling was seated at a roll-top desk in an office-like compartment, frowning over some document that he held in his hand.
The boys waited until he should look up.He did so suddenly, peering at them from beneath his heavy eyebrows.Phil was not sure, from the showman's expression, whether he had recognized them or not.Mr.Sparling answered this question almost at once.
"How are you, Forrest? Well, Tucker, I suppose you've come back primed 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 every line 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 almost disconcerting suddenness.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy, writhing under the grip the showman gave him, 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 here somewhere, 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 will find out at once."The showman consulted a typewritten list.
"You are both in car number eleven.The porter will show you the berths that have been assigned to you, and I hope you will both obey 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'll be falling off the platform some night, get under the wheels and wreck 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.