"I guess the storm has blown over," decided young Tucker,
grinning to himself. "But won't Phil raise an awful row when he
hears about it!"
The lad quickly learned the paste-making trick, and after dinner
he set to work in earnest. He found it hard work stirring the
stiff paste, and it seemed as if Teddy got the greater part of it
over his clothes and face. He was literally smeared with it,
great splashes of it disfiguring his face and matting his hair.
When the men from the country routes drove in there was a howl
of merriment. The lad did present a ludicrous sight.
"Hello, Spotted Horse!" shouted one of them.
"Hello yourself," growled Teddy, in none too enviable a frame
of mind.
"That's the name. That's the name that fits our friend Tucker!"
cried Missing Link. From that moment on, aboard Car Three, Teddy
Tucker lost his own name and became Spotted Horse.
The men had no sooner unloaded their paste cans than the porter
had told them of the trouble that morning between Teddy and
the manager.
The men howled in their delight. Mr. Snowden, off in his little
office, heard the sounds of merriment and knew that the laughter
was at his expense. His face was black and distorted with rage.
"I'll show them they can't trifle with and insult me,"
he gritted.
At that moment he roared for Billy.
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