"You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?" he twinkled. "I'll tell
you why I don't. Confidentially, you know?"
"Sure."
"I wear a wig when I'm performing. Mebby if it wasn't for that I
might set something on fire. I must get over on the lot now."
"You're in a lot already," Teddy informed him.
"We call the place where we pitch the tents 'the lot.' The cook
tent must be up by this time, and I'm half starved. The
performance was so late yesterday afternoon that they had the
cook tent down before I got my supper. Will you come along?"
They did.
"Do you think there is anything I could do to earn a ticket to
the show today?" asked Phil.
"Yes, there's most always something for a boy to do."
"Whom do I ask about it?"
"Go see the boss canvasman. I'll point him out to you as we go
along."
"Thank you. You want to see him, too, Teddy?"
"No; I don't have to."
"That's him over there. He's a grouch, but just don't let him
bluff you. Yes, the cook tent's about ready. I'll sneak in and
hook something before breakfast; then mebby I'll come back and
talk with you."
"We'll look for you in the show this afternoon," said Phil.
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