The Circus Boys on the Plains Part 32

"Wouldn't I like to fasten Sparling banners all over that place, though. What a hit that would be. Why," he added looking about him, "it could be seen pretty much all over town."

Phil started on, intending to find out who owned the building.

As he did so he saw a man from the canary-colored car entering the building. The man was going into a store on the ground floor.

"I'll bet he is after that very wall. Oh, pshaw! Why didn't I stay in town and attend to my business, as I should have done, instead of racing over the country at that mad pace? I'm going over to see what he is up to."

The Circus Boy hurried along. Entering the store he saw the man from the rival car, who proved to be the manager of it, engaged in earnest conversation with a man whom Phil supposed to be the proprietor.

After a little the manager of the other car hurried out.

Phil stepped forward.

"Are you the proprietor?" he asked politely.

"Yes; what can I do for you?"

"Do you own this building?"

"No, but I am the agent for it."

"Very good. You are the man I want to talk with. I am from the Sparling Shows. I should like the privilege of fastening some banners on that south wall there."

"You're too late, young man. I just gave the other man permission to do that."

"Did he pay you?" asked Phil sweetly.

"No."

"Did you sign a contract with him?"

"No."

"May I ask how much he is to give you for the privilege?"

"Twenty-five dollars."

"He ought to be ashamed to offer you such a mean figure as that for such a privilege."

The proprietor grew interested.

"Where has he gone?"

"Said he had to talk with someone back with the show by long distance telephone before he could close the bargain."

Phil glanced apprehensively at the door.

"I guess you had better sell the privilege to me while you have the chance. He may not come back, you know; then you will be out all around."

"I couldn't think of it. I gave him the privilege of buying the wall."

"Money talks, doesn't it, sir?"

"It does, young man. It always makes such a loud noise around me that I can't hear much of anything else."

Phil grinned.

"Yes; it's pretty noisy stuff."

The lad calmly drew a big roll of bills from his pocket, placing it on the counter before the storekeeper. To the pile he added his watch, a jackknife, a bunch of keys and a silver matchbox.

"Help yourself," he begged calmly.

"Wha--what?" gasped the storekeeper.

"I said help yourself. I want that wall. I leave it to you to say what is a reasonable price for it--a price fair to you and to me. You admit that money talks. This money is addressing its remarks to you direct, at this very moment."

The proprietor hesitated, glanced at the money and other articles that Phil had arrayed so temptingly before him, and turned reflectively facing the rear of the store.

"I will scribble off a little contract," said Phil softly.

"How much shall we make the consideration?"

"What'll you give?"

"I've got him!" was Phil Forrest's triumphant thought, but he allowed none of his triumphant feeling to appear in his face.

"Well, were I making the offer I should say the wall was worth about forty dollars, no other bills to appear on it until after my show has left town. But I told you to help yourself.

I'll stick to my word."

"Count me out forty dollars and take it. I like your style.

Your way of doing business makes a hit with me."

Phil inserted the agreed-upon price in the contract.

"Just sign your name there, please," he said, still in that soft, persuasive voice.

The storekeeper read the brief contract through, nodded approvingly, then affixed his signature with the fountain pen that Phil had handed to him.

This done, the lad counted out forty dollars, stowed the rest away in his pockets, together with his other belongings, then extended his hand cordially to the proprietor.

"Thank you very much," murmured Phil, his face all aglow now.

"You're welcome. When do you put up your bills?"

"At once. We leave town tonight, and we have a lot of work to do first."

"Let's see; were you one of the fellows mixed up in that race this morning?"

Phil blushed.