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"I am afraid I was very much mixed up in it.
Well, good afternoon."
The lad turned and started for the door. At that moment someone entered. It was the manager of the canary car.
"It's all right. I'll take the location," he announced, smiling broadly, as he walked rapidly to where the proprietor was standing, laying two tens and a five-dollar bill on the counter.
"I--I'm sorry," stammered the storekeeper, flus.h.i.+ng. "I have just sold it to another party."
"Sold it!"
The manager's face went several shades paler.
"Yes."
"To--to whom?"
"To that young gentleman there."
The manager whirled and faced Phil.
"Who--who are you?"
"My name is Forrest," answered Phil, smiling easily. He could well afford to smile.
"And you--you have bought this location?"
"I have."
"Whom do you represent?"
"The Sparling Combined Shows."
The Circus Boy's rival flushed angrily.
"I demand that the location be turned over to me instantly!
It belongs to me, and I'll have it if I have to fight for it.
Here's my money, Mr. Storekeeper. I command you to make out a paper giving me the right to bill that wall."
"I do not think he will do anything of the sort, my dear sir,"
spoke up Phil. "I have bought and paid for the location and I propose to hold it. You had no more right to it than any other man. You did not have the nerve to put down your money for it when you had the chance, and you lost your opportunity.
You will see the wall covered with Sparling banners in a very short time."
"I will not!"
"Be on your way, my man. Let me tell you the Sparling banners are going up."
"There's my money!" shouted the manager of the canary colored car. "The wall is _mine!_"
He dashed out of the store and started for his car on the run.
"If you let those other showmen banner the wall I'll have the law on you!" announced Phil sternly. Then the Circus Boy ran out of the store, starting off at a lively sprint for his own car. He caught up with the rival manager in a moment, pa.s.sed him and bounded on. His rival already was puffing and perspiring under the unusual effort.
"Turn out every man in town!" he called, das.h.i.+ng into the car.
"Teddy, run to the main street and send everyone of our banner men and lithographers to the Ward Building. You and Henry carry over there at once all the banners you can sc.r.a.pe together.
Do not lose a minute. But wait! I'll telephone the liveryman for a wagon to carry the paper, brushes and paste pots over.
You remain here, Henry, and go with the wagon. Teddy, you hustle for the men. Run as if the Rhino from the Sparling menagerie were charging you!"
Teddy leaped from the car platform and was off, with Phil sprinting after him in long strides.
They pa.s.sed the manager of the canary colored car just as they were running across the switches in the railroad yard. He was only then getting to his car.
CHAPTER XVII
THE CHARGE OF THE PASTE BRIGADE
Phil's plans were formed instantly.
He ran to a place where he had seen a painter's sign earlier in the day. Reaching there he ordered the painter to send out to the Ward Building a gang of painters with their swinging platform, tackle and full equipment, telling the man briefly what was wanted of him after the apparatus reached the building in question.
"Now hurry it, and I'll double the price you ask if you get there and do the work I am asking of you."
The painter needed no further inducement. Once again money made its announcement in unmistakable tones.
Phil again started off on a run. Reaching the Ward Building he found his banner men and lithographers gathering. A few moments after his arrival the livery wagon with the paste, brushes and paper, came das.h.i.+ng up with Henry, the porter, standing guard over it. Teddy had thoughtfully turned out all the available men in the livery stable and came charging down the street, driving them before him, howling at every jump. That is, Teddy was howling; as he did whenever the occasion presented itself.
By this time quite a crowd had been attracted to the scene, not understanding what all the excitement was about. None of the rival posters had appeared as yet. Phil had got a very good start.
Telling off three of his banner men he sent them to the roof, while the painter was preparing to swing his scaffold.
"I am afraid I shall have to block your store for a short time, Mr. Storekeeper," said Phil, entering the store. "Our friend is going to try to take the place by storm, I think, and we shall have to stand him off."
"He had better not try it," growled the proprietor.
"He will, just the same. But, with your permission, he will not get upstairs to the roof while I am here."
"Do whatever you like. I've got his money, but it's here for him when he wants it."
Phil, having arranged with the proprietor, went out and gave his final instructions to his men.
"You are not to let a man through here unless with my permission," he said. "I am going up to the roof. If anything occurs, call me at once. Teddy, I leave the front of the store in your hands while I am away. There is trouble brewing. I feel it in my bones."
"Yes; trouble for the other fellow," grinned Teddy.
In a very short time the painters had succeeded in swinging their scaffold over the roof. An interested crowd was watching the proceeding from the street.
The banner men climbed down on the swinging platform, and, as if by magic, the Sparling banners began appearing on the big wall.