"Oh, that's so."
"We lose all track of days in the show business. I'll wager you do not even know what town we are performing in today," laughed the clown.
"I shall have to confess that I do not."
"I thought so. Of course you know we are in the state of Illinois?"
"Yes, I think I have heard something to that effect," grinned Phil.
By the time the boys had eaten their breakfast, and had strolled over toward the tents, they found the dressing tents in place and the performers busily engaged in unpacking their belongings, hanging their costumes on lines stretched across the dressing tent, and making such repairs in the costumes as were found to be necessary, for a showman must be handy with the needle as well as with bar and trapeze.
Phil's trunk was next to that of Diaz. The Circus Boy did not mind this at all, but the clown appeared to feel a continual resentment at the fact.
"Good morning, Mr. Diaz," greeted the lad, with a sunny smile.
"Shall we shake hands and be friends?"
Diaz glared at him, but made no reply. He did not even appear to have observed the hand that was extended toward him.
"I am sorry you feel that way about it, sir. If I was hasty I beg you will forgive me," urged Phil.