"Humph!"

"What do you think of our new home, Teddy?" smiled Phil.

"I've seen better," grumbled the Circus Boy. "I think I prefer
the stateroom. Where's the boss?"

"He's out just now looking over the work."

Teddy, with a scowl on his face, went outside to take a look
at the car from the outside. The car was a bright red, with
the name of the Sparling Shows spread over its sides in
gilded letters.

"If the inside were half as good-looking as the outside, it would
be some car," was Teddy's conclusion, after walking all around
the car. "I think I'll go back and join the show."

"Oh, be sensible, Teddy," chided Phil. "We shall be very
comfortable after we once get settled. Here comes Mr. Snowden,
I think."

Approaching them, the boys saw a thin, nervous-appearing man of
perhaps forty-five years of age.

"Are you Mr. Snowden?" asked Phil, politely.

"Yes; what do you want?"

"I am Phil Forrest, and this is my friend, Teddy Tucker. We have