Phil walked over and sat down on a truck on the station platform, where he pondered deeply and rapidly.
"All right; I have it figured out. We have our work cut out for us. You wait here while I run back to the car."
Teddy curled up on the truck, promptly going to sleep, while Phil hurried to the car to get the address of the liveryman who had the contract for running the country routes for the show.
The lad came running back, and, darting into the station, found a telephone. After some delay he succeeded in reaching the livery stable.
"This is Car Three of the Sparling Shows," he said. "Yes, Car Three. I want those teams at our car at two o'clock this morning. Not a minute later. Can't do it? You've got to do it! Do you hear what I say? I want those teams there at two o'clock. Very well; see that you do!"
Out to the platform darted Phil in search of Teddy. The latter was snoring industriously.
Phil grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down on the platform.
"Ouch!" howled Teddy.
"Get up, you sleepy-head!"
"I'll friz you for that!" declared Tucker, squaring off pugnaciously.