"It doesn't look very promising, I must say," he muttered,
jumping lightly from one flat car to another.
Phil had searched faithfully until finally he reached a "flat"
just behind that on which stood the great gilded band wagon.
Now, under its covering of heavy canvas, none of its gaudy
trimmings were to be seen.
Phil sat down on the low projection at the side of the flat car,
eyeing the band wagon suspiciously.
Somehow he could not rid himself of the impression that that
wagon would bear scrutiny.
"I'll bet they never looked into it. Last year when we were a
road show, I remember how the men used to sleep in there and how
Teddy got thrown out when he walked on somebody's face," and Phil
laughed softly at the memory. "I'm going to climb up there."
To do this was not an easy matter, for the band wagon seemed to
loom above him like a tent. The canvas stretched over it,
extending clear down to the wheels, to which it was secured
by ropes. The only way the Circus Boy could get up into the
wagon seemed to be to crawl under the canvas at the bottom and
gradually to work his way up.
"I'm going to try it," he decided all at once. "Of course
they didn't look into it. Maybe they are afraid they will
find someone.
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