"Who's that?" demanded Teddy.

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

Teddy strolled over with rather more dignity.

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

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

"And we have been, ever since you boys showed me the brook where
I 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 in
fine condition. Quite a little lighter than you were last
season, aren't you, Phil?"

"No; I weigh ten pounds more."

"Then you must be mighty hard."