"Four hundred sheets!" groaned Snowden. "What have you fellows been doing? Sleeping by the roadside?"
"No, sir, we have been working, and Mr. Forrest here pulled off one of the cleverest hits that's ever been made. He plastered a silo that stands out like a sore thumb on the landscape, and which every farmer within ten or twenty miles about will go to look at."
"Humph, I don't believe it! What have the other men done?"
Conley reported as to the number of sheets that the men had posted, whereat the manager rose, pounded his desk and, in a towering rage, expressed his opinion of the tribe of billposters again.
Billy smiled sarcastically, in which he was joined by Teddy, but Phil's face was solemn. He was becoming rather tired of this constant abuse.
"If you have nothing to say to me, I will go back to my place in the car," spoke up Phil.
Snowden glared at him.
"Did I tell you to leave this room?"
"I believe you did not."
"Then stand there until I tell you to go!"