The wagon turned turtle, and men, paste brushes, paper and all were scattered all over the place.
"Oh, that's too bad!" muttered Phil. "But we can do nothing for them if we stop. There are plenty back there to lend assistance."
His tender heart told him to go back, whether he could be of service to his rival or not, but his duty lay plain before him. He must outdistance the enemy.
A second team came plunging down the road from the canary car, close behind the unfortunate wagon. These horses, too, were instantly mixed in the wreck. The wagon did not turn turtle as the one before it had done, but one of the horses went down.
Now came other wagons of the Sparling outfit. They were running two abreast in the road. But the drivers saw the obstruction in time, slowed down and dodged it. They were off at a tremendous speed, and a few moments later branched off on different roads, quickly disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Phil's wagon crew discovered a farm barn just ahead of them. They drove up to it on a run. All hands piled out. And how they did work! In a few moments the old barn was a blaze of color.
"First blood for the Sparling Combined Shows!" shouted the boy.
"Now hit the trail for all you are worth!"
They were off again. A cloud of dust to their rear told them that one of their rival's wagons was after them. At the next stop the pursuing wagon rolled by them, the men yelling derisively.
"It is the Wallace Show's crowd!" shouted Phil.
"Get after them."
The Wallace people went on half a mile further. As Phil drew up on them he shouted to his driver to go on to the next stop. When they made it finally, they were passed by the crew from the canary advance car.