In every window within sight of them there hung a gaudy Sparling
circus bill, some windows being plastered full of them.

They called the manager hastily.

"Look!" said his assistant.

"What! We're tricked! But they haven't got far with their work.
They haven't had time. Don't you see, the lazy fellows have just
got to work. After them, men! Beat them out! You've got to out
bill this town!"

As the men hurried out into the other streets the same unpleasant
sight met their eyes. Every available window bore a Sparling
bill; every wall obtainable had a Sparling banner tacked to it.
One could not look in any direction without his gaze resting on a
Sparling advertisement.

Bob Tripp was mad all through.

He had been outwitted.

In his anger he started for Car Three. Reaching it he discovered
the young advance agent on the shady side of Car Three, lounging
in a rocking chair reading a book.

Phil's idea of dramatic situations was an excellent one.

"What do you mean, playing such a trick on me?" demanded the