The Circus Boys on the Plains Part 25

Don't delay a minute longer than that. Hustle it!"

Phil darted out and back to the car. Every nerve in his body was centered on the work in hand. He ran to Conley's berth and shook him.

"What is it?" mumbled Billy sleepily.

"Get up and come into the stateroom. There is business on hand."

Billy hopped out of bed, wide awake instantly, and ran to the stateroom.

Phil briefly explained the situation and what he had planned to do. After he had finished Billy eyed him approvingly.

"You're a wonder," he said. "What about breakfast?"

"I am having some prepared at a restaurant. But the men will not have time to eat it. They may take it with them and eat it on the road."

"I'll rout out the crew," returned Billy, hurrying back into the car.

There was much grumbling and grunting, but as soon as the men were thoroughly awake they were enthusiastic. Not a man of them but that wanted to see this bright-faced, clean-cut young car manager beat out his adversaries.

By the time the men had washed and dressed the rigs began to arrive. These were quickly loaded with brushes, paste cans and paper, all with scarcely a sound, the men speaking in subdued tones by Phil's direction.

The darkness before the dawn was over everything.

At last all was in readiness.

Phil handed each man his route.

"Now, boys, it is up to you. I look to you to put the Greatest out of business, for one day at least. You should be out of town and on the first daub inside of thirty minutes. I will go with you and pick up the breakfasts; then you will go it alone.

Don't leave a piece of board as big as a postage stamp uncovered.

Wherever you strike a farmer, make him sign a brief agreement not to let anyone cover our paper. Pay him something in addition to the tickets you give him. Here is an agreement that you can copy from. Make your route as quickly as you can and do it well; then hurry back here. I may need you."

"Hooray!" muttered Rosie the Pig.

"Hold your tongue!" commanded Billy, "Think this is a Fourth of July celebration?"

"Go ahead!"

Phil hopped into one of the wagons, and off they started. It was but the work of a few minutes to load the packages of breakfast into the wagons, after which the men drove quickly away.

Phil paid the bill. But he was not yet through with his early morning work. He made his way to the livery stable.

"Send another rig over to the car at once. I want you to bring the day's work of lithographs and banners here, and my men will work them out from your stables. I do not want the opposition car to know what we are doing until it is nearly all done."

"Whew, but you're a whirlwind!" grinned the livery stable man.

The horse and wagon were made ready at once, Phil riding back to the car with it. The banner-men and lithographers who were to work in town had not been awakened. Phil wished them to get all the sleep possible; so, with Teddy's help, he loaded the paper on the wagon and sent the driver away with it. Then he awakened the rest of the men.

Phil briefly explained what had happened.

"Now, I want all hands to turn out at once. Go to the restaurant on the third street above here and get your breakfasts. Here is the money. By daylight some of the business places will begin to open. I want every man of you to spend the forenoon squaring every place in town. Make an agreement that no other show is to be allowed to place a bill in their windows. While you are eating your breakfasts I will lay out the streets and a.s.sign you.

I have the princ.i.p.al part of the town in my mind, now, so I can give you the most of your routes. Teddy, you will turn in and help square. I will collect the addresses of the places you have squared, early in the morning, and by that time I shall have a squad of town fellows hired, to place the stuff.

Now, get going!"

All hands hurried into their clothes; after locking the car, Phil led them to the restaurant. But the Circus Boy did not take the time to eat. Instead he busied himself laying out the routes for the town men to work.

By the time that they had finished their breakfast faint streaks of dawn were appearing in the east.

"Now, boys, do your prettiest!" urged Phil.

"We will; don't you worry, Boss."

The men hurried off, full of enthusiasm for the work before them, while Phil started out to round up a squad of men to distribute the lithographs after his own men had squared the places to put them.

In an hour he had all the men he wanted. This done, Phil took his way slowly back to the railroad yards and stepped up to the platform of his own car. The freight cars had been removed from in front of him and the rival car stood out gaudily in the morning light. All was quiet in the camp of the rival. Not a man of its crew was awake.

"I hope they sleep all day," muttered Phil, entering his own car and pulling all the shades down, after which he took his position at a window and watched from behind a shade.

CHAPTER XIII

A BAFFLED CAR MANAGER

It was nearly seven in the morning when Phil's vigil was rewarded by the sight of a man in his pajamas, emerging from the rival car. The man stood on the rear platform and stretched himself. All at once he caught sight of Car Three.

The fellow instantly became very wide awake. Opening the car door he called to someone within; then three or four men came out and stared at the Sparling car.

"They are pretty good sleepers over there, I guess," grinned the rival car manager, for such he proved to be.

The men dodged back, and there was a lively scene in the rival car. The men realized that they had been remiss in their duty in sleeping so late, but still they had not the least doubt of their ability to outwit their rivals, for the crew of Car Four was a picked lot who had never yet been beaten in the publicity game.

About this time Phil Forrest strolled out to the rear platform of his car. He was fully dressed save for coat and vest and hat, yet to all appearances he, too, had just risen.

The manager of the rival car came out and hailed him.

"h.e.l.lo, young fellow!" he called.

"Good morning," answered Phil sweetly.

"Seems to me you sleep late over there."

"So do you," laughed Phil. "There must be something in the air up this way to induce sleep."

"I guess that's right. Who are you?" inquired the rival manager.

"I am one of the crowd."

"You're the programmer, perhaps?"

"I may be most anything."