For reasons of his own he
did not wish his rival to get too close to the Sparling car.
"I never saw you before," said the rival, eyeing Phil keenly.
"Nor I you."
"What's your name?"
"Philip."
"Glad to know you, Philip. How long have you been with the car?"
"A few weeks only."
"Who's your car manager?"
"A fellow named Forrest."
"Never heard of him. Is he in bed!"
"No; he is out."
"Humph! What time do you start your men on the country routes?"
"Usually about seven to seven-thirty."
"Well, you won't start them this morning at that time."
"No; I think not."
"I'll tell you what you do; you come and take breakfast with me.
We won't go to any contract hotel, either."
"Thank you; I shall be delighted. Wait till I get my
clothes on."
Phil hastened back to his own car.
"That fellow is playing a sharp trick. He is trying to get me
away so he can get his men out ahead of mine. I will walk into
his trap. He knows I am the manager. I could see that by the
way he acted."
Phil stepped out and joined his rival.
"I believe you said you were the manager of that car, did you
not?" asked the rival.
"I am, though I do not recollect having said so."
"A kid like you manager of a car? I don't know what the show
business is coming to, with all due respect to you, young man.
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