No manager had ever reeled off work at such a dizzy pace as Phil
Forrest was doing. It challenged their admiration and made them
forget their weariness.

The country routes started, Phil set his lithographers at work.
The men kept at it until nearly midnight. They had completed
their work in the town and in the meantime Phil and Teddy had
squared the hits, as they are called--the places where the
banners were to be tacked up--all ready for the banner men to
get to work when they arrived in town next morning, or late
that night.

They arrived about midnight, but the other car did not come on
the train with them. They brought the information that the train
was a limited one, and would not carry the rival car. Bob Tripp
would not be able to get through until sometime the
next forenoon.

Phil felt like throwing up his hat and shouting with delight,
but his dignity as a car manager would not permit him to do so.
No such limitations were imposed upon Teddy Tucker, however,
and Teddy whooped it up for all that was in him.

All hands were weary when they turned in that night. At about
eleven o'clock the following morning, the country billposters
came in, having completed their routes. Phil had made his
arrangements to have his car hauled over the road by a special
engine, and shortly after noon Car Three was again on its way,
every man on board rejoicing over the drubbing they had given