Teddy's eyes grew large.
"That—manager of Car Three?" he said derisively.
Mr. Sparling gave him a stern glance.
"But, Mr. Sparling, I know so little about the work. Of course I am proud and happy to be promoted to so responsible a position, but almost, if not every man on the car, is better equipped for this work than I am."
"They may be more familiar with some of the details, but as a whole I do not agree with your view. In two weeks' time you will have grasped the details, and I will wager that there will not be a better agent in the United States."
The Circus Boy flushed happily.
"You will have to be alive. But I do not need to say that. You always are alive. You will have to fight the railroads constantly, to get your car through on time; you will have to combat innumerable elements that as yet you have not had experience with. However, I have no fear. I know the stuff you are made of. I ought to. I have known you for nearly five years."
"I will do my best, Mr. Sparling."
There was no laughter in the eyes of the Circus Boy now.
"Then again, you are going right into territory where you will have the stiffest kind of opposition. At least five shows are booked for our territory almost from now on."