"Everybody on an advance car has a nickname, you know.
You'll forget your real names, if you stay on an advance
car long enough. I couldn't remember mine if I didn't get
a letter occasionally to remind me of it, and sometimes I
almost feel as if I was opening another fellow's letters
when I open my own."

"Glad to know you, boys," smiled Phil. "Do you know where we are
to sleep?"

"See that pile of paper up there?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's that or the floor for yours. All the rest of the
berths are occupied, unless the Boss is going to let you sleep
in the office with him."

"I rather think he will not invite us. He seems to be in a huff
about something tonight," answered Phil dryly, at which there was
a loud laugh.

"What's this Johnnie Bull tells me about a roughhouse in the
office this afternoon?" demanded Conley suddenly.

"I would rather not talk about that," replied Phil, coloring.

"Come here, you Englishman, and tell us all about it. Our friend
is too modest."