Phil quickly repressed his audible comments.
The show was soon over; then came the noise and the confusion of the breaking up. The illusion was gone—the glamor was a thing of the past. The lad strolled about slowly in search of his companion, whom he eventually found in the dressing tent.
“Teddy, isn’t it about time you and I went to bed?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Circus people sleep when there isn’t anything else to do. Where we going to sleep?”
“Same place, I presume, if no one gets ahead of us.”
“They’d better not. I’ll throw them out if they do.”
Phil laughed good-naturedly.
“If I remember correctly, somebody was thrown out last night and this morning, but it didn’t happen to be the other fellow. I’m hungry; wish I had something to eat.”
“So am I,” agreed Teddy.
“You boys should get a sandwich or so and keep the stuff in your trunk while we are playing these country towns. When we get into the cities, where they have restaurants, you can get a lunch downtown after you have finished your act and then be back in time to go out with the wagons,” Mr. Miaco informed them. “You’ll pick up these little tricks as we go along, and it won’t be long before you are full-fledged showmen. You are pretty near that point already.”