Phil grinned out of sheer sympathy.
"I must look funny riding in this fine carriage with four white horses drawing me through the streets. I don't blame them for laughing. If I had something to eat, now, I would be all right. I am getting to have as much of an appetite as Teddy Tucker has. I—"
Phil paused, listening intently.
"I hear another band and it is coming nearer," he exclaimed.
"That must be the Sully show. I forgot in my excitement, to ask
Mr. Sparling about them. I wonder where they are?"
The music of the rival band grew louder and louder, but strain his eyes and ears as he would, Phil was unable to locate the other show's line of parade.
"Where's that band?" he called up to the driver of his carriage.
"Off that side of the town, I guess," he answered, waving his whip to the right of them.
"Well, I think they are pretty close to us and I don't like the looks, or rather the sound of things."
At that moment Phil's carriage was drawn across an intersecting street. He looked up the street quickly.
"There they are!" he cried.