"Why?" questioned Billy, now regaining his presence of mind.
" 'Cause, between us we'd put the show out of business."
"I believe you would," nodded Phil.
"Where you going, boys?"
"Mrs. Cahill's."
"Then I'll walk down that way with you. What time do you get through at night?"
"We finish our last act about ten o'clock," answered Phil.
"Why?"
"Oh, nothing much. I just wanted to know."
Phil shot a swift, suspicious glance at the schoolboy, but Billy's face bore an expression as serene as the May morning of that very day.
Mr. Sparling hailed the lads as they were leaving the lot.