"I am, though I do not recollect having said so."
"A kid like you manager of a car? I don't know what the show business is coming to, with all due respect to you, young man."
"Oh, that's all right," answered the Circus Boy with a frank, innocent smile. "I am just learning the business, you know."
"I thought so," nodded the rival. "My name's Tripp—Bob Tripp."
"You been in the business long?"
"Fifteen years, my boy. After you have been in it as long as I have, you will know every crook and turn, every trick in the whole show business," said the fellow proudly. "You are a bright-faced young chap. I should like to have you on my car. Don't want a job, do you?"
"No, thank you. I am very well satisfied where I am. I can learn on a Sparling car as well as anywhere else, you know."
"Yes, of course."
The couple stopped at the leading hotel of the town, where the rival manager ordered a fine breakfast. Phil Forrest was quite ready for it. He already had done a heavy day's work and he was genuinely hungry.
"Guess they don't feed you very well with your outfit," smiled Tripp.