"You have
not called at a newspaper office since we started under the
new arrangement."
"Nope," admitted Teddy.
"Why not?"
"Why, do you think?"
"I am sure I do not know."
"Well, you ought to, seeing you have been keeping me running my
legs off twenty-four and a half hours out of every day."
"You have been pretty busy, that is a fact. But you had better
start in today. You have plenty of time this afternoon to attend
to that work."
"What shall I tell them?"
"Oh, tell them a funny story. Make them laugh, and they will do
the rest."
"But I don't know any funny stories."
"Tell them the story of your life as a circus boy. That will be
funny enough to make a hyena laugh."
"Ho, ho!" exploded Teddy. "It is a joke. He who laughs first
laughs last."
"You mean 'he who laughs last laughs best,'" corrected Phil,
smiling broadly.
"Well, maybe. Something of the sort," grinned the Circus Boy.
"And look here, Teddy!"
"Yes?"
"Have you written to Mr. Sparling yet, as he requested you
to do?"
"No."
"And why not?"
"Same reason."
"You must write to him every day, no matter how busy you are.
Sit up a little later every night; go without a meal if
necessary, but follow his directions implicitly."
"Implicitly," mocked Teddy.
However, Mr. Sparling was not without news of what had been
going on on Car Three.
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