He found himself hungry, and, repairing to the accommodation car
for a lunch, discovered Teddy stowing away food at a great rate.
"So you're here, are you?" laughed Phil.
"Yep; I live here most of the time," grinned Teddy. "They like
to have me eat here. I'm a sort of nest egg, you know. It makes
the others hungry to see me eat, and they file in in a
perfect procession. How's your head?"
"Still a size too large," answered Phil, sinking down on a stool
and ordering a sandwich.
As the lads ate and talked two or three other performers came in,
whereupon the conversation became more general.
All at once there came a bang as a switching engine bumped into
the rear of their car. Teddy about to pass a cup of steaming
coffee to his lips, spilled most of it down his neck.
"Ouch!" he yelled, springing up, dancing about the floor,
holding his clothes as far from his body as possible. "Here, you
quit that!" he yelled, poking his head out of a window. "If you
do that again I'll trim you with a pitcher of coffee and see how
you like that."
Bang!
Once more the engine smashed into them, having failed to make the
coupling the first time.
Teddy sat down heavily in the middle of the car, just as Little
Dimples tripped in.
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