Phil tapped on the door. There was no response, so he rapped again, this time with more force. Still failing to arouse anyone Phil delivered a series of resounding kicks against the door.
"If no one answers that I'll know there is nobody here and I'll see if I can't break the door down."
There was someone there, however, as was made plain a moment later, when the door was thrown suddenly open, revealing the grinning face of Sully, the owner of the show.
"Morning," greeted Phil. "I thought maybe breakfast was being served in the dining car, and I didn't want to miss it."
"You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?"
"So I have been told. But about that breakfast? If you'll kindly conduct me to the wash room, so I can make myself beautiful and prepare for breakfast, I shall be obliged to you."
"Huh!" grunted the showman.
"Where are we?"
"Brant."
"Is this where we show today?"