"Better keep out of it," advised Mr. Sparling. "You might fall off from the cars. You are not used to walking over the tops of them."
"Oh, yes I am. I have done it a number of times this season just to help me to steady my nerves. I can walk a swaying box car in a gale of wind and not get dizzy."
Mr. Sparling held up his hands protestingly.
"Don't tell me any more. I believe you. If you told me you could run the engine I'd believe you. If there be anything you don't know how to do, or at least know something about, I should be glad to know what that something is."
"May I send your messages?" asked the lad. "If you will write them now I'll take them over to the station. It must be nearly starting time."
"Yes; it is. No; I'll call one of the men."
Mr. Sparling threw up his desk and rapidly scribbled his directions to the train managers ahead. After that he sent forward for the manager of their particular section, to whom he confided Phil Forrest's plan, the lad taking part in the discussion that followed. The train manager laughed at the idea that anyone could steal a ride on his train persistently without being detected.
Mr. Sparling very emphatically told the manager that what he thought about it played no part in the matter at all. He was expected to make a thorough search of the train."
"His search won't amount to anything" thought Phil shrewdly. "I'll do the searching for this section and I'll find the fellow if he is on board. I hope I shall. I owe Red Larry something, and I'm anxious to pay the debt."
The train soon started, Phil bidding his employer good night, went forward to No. 1 which was the forward sleeper on the train, next to the box and flat cars. He peered into Teddy Tucker's berth, finding that lad sound asleep, after which he tumbled into his own bed.