Rosie turned dutifully, but with a weary expression on his face.
"I fine you eleven dollars and fifty cents. That"s about what the tickets will come to. Now go. Send Rain-in-the-Face here!"
The interview with Rain-in-the-Face sounded not unlike a series of explosions to those out in the main compartment of the car.
Every face wore a grin, and each man expected it would be his turn next.
"Come on, let"s go outside and talk," said Conley.
"I should think you _would_ want to get away from it all,"
answered Phil. "I don"t know; whether I can stand this sort of thing or not."
"You"ll get used to it after awhile."
"Something"s going to happen," croaked the Missing Link, dismally, as the two left the car by the rear door.
"I guess the freak is right," nodded Billy Conley. "There is going to be an explosion here that will shake the state."
There was, but not exactly in the way he imagined.
CHAPTER V
THE MIDNIGHT ALARM
"Now tell me, if you will, what the routine of the work on an advance car is," said Phil after he and Billy had sat down beside the tracks.
"It would take all night to do that, but I"ll give you a few pointers and the rest you will have to pick up for yourself.
In the first place an advertising car includes billposters, lithographers, banner men and at least one programmer."
"Sounds all right, but it doesn"t mean much of anything to me,"
laughed Phil.
"The billposters post the large bills on the billboards, and anywhere else that they can get a chance, mostly out in the country and in the country towns. In places where there is a regular billposter, he does that work for us. Any boards not owned by a billposter, or a barn or a pigpen or a henhouse on the road is called a "daub." At least two tickets are given for every place we put a piece of paper on. These tickets are numbered and signed. Now, if a fellow out in Kankakee, we will say, should chance to tear down the bill, when he presented his ticket at the gate on the day of the show, it would be refused.
He"d pay or stay out."
"But how would they know he had taken down the poster,"
questioned Phil.
"Checkers follow along at intervals and check up every piece of paper we put up. We send the record of our work to the car back of us and they in turn send our and their reports to the car behind them."
"It is a wonderful system, indeed," marveled Phil.
"Yes. To go back a little I will say that this is a "scout car"
or what is known among showmen as "the opposition car." It goes only where there is trouble, where there is opposition.
For instance, more than half a dozen shows are coming into this territory, this season, and it is up to us to cover every available s.p.a.ce with our paper before their cars get on the ground."
"But will they not paste their bills over yours, over those you have already put up?"
"They seldom do. It is an unwritten law in the show business that this is not to be done."
Teddy had come up to them in time to hear the last remark.
"I thought there wasn"t any law, written or unwritten, in this business," he said.
"You will find there is, young man. Then, to come to the lithographers, as I think I already have told you, these men place small bills in store and shop windows, giving tickets for the privilege the same as do the billposters. One man goes ahead of them and does what we call "the squaring,"
meaning that he enters the stores and asks the privilege of putting up the lithographs. In most cases the owners of the places object, and he has to convince them that it is to their advantage to have the paper in their windows."
"I didn"t think there was so much to it, but I think I should like that work. I"ll be a squarer," decided Teddy.
"The banner men put up what are called "banners," cloth signs.
These are tacked up in high places and the banner men have to be good climbers. They fill their mouths with tacks, points in, heads out. They use magnetic hammers."
"What"s this, a joke?" interrupted Teddy.
"It is not a joke. The head of each hammer so used is a magnet, and is used to pick the tacks from the mouth of the banner man.
The tack sticks to the head of the hammer and is thus ready to be driven. An expert banner man will drive tacks almost as rapidly as you could fire a self-acting revolver."
"That is odd. What does the fellow called the programmer do?"
"He takes the small printed matter around, and drops it on doorsteps and in stores. When we are making a day run with the car he drops the printed matter off at stations and crossroads, or wherever he sees a man. Following us come route-riders."
"What are they?"
"Men who ride over the country routes to see whether the billposters have put up the paper indicated on their reports, or thrown the stuff in a ditch somewhere. After them come checkers, one after the other. This is Car Three, as you know. Car Two follows about two weeks behind us, and Car One comes along a week ahead of the show. What are you going to do?"
"Mr. Snowden said I was to go out with one of the men on a country route."
"Then you come along with me, unless he directs you differently.
I can give you pointers that would take you a long time to learn were you left to pick them up yourself. Don"t say anything to him about it unless he speaks to you, but prepare to go out with me early in the morning. I have a big drive tomorrow, some fifty miles, and you will get all you want for one day"s work."
"Yes; that will be fine."
"What is your friend here to do?"
"I am the paste-maker," answered Teddy with a sheepish grin.
"I make the stick.u.m stuff for this outfit."
"A nice job," jeered the a.s.sistant manager. "You will get all you want of that work in about thirty minutes. The Boss must certainly have a grudge against you. You will be hanging around the car all day, however, and if the Boss is away any you will have a chance to get forty winks of sleep in the stateroom now and then."
"No; Teddy is not here to sleep. He is here to work."
"Yes; everybody works around here but Father."
"Is the work the same on the advance cars of all shows?"
"All circuses, yes. We do things just the same as the fellows did them forty years ago. n.o.body seems to have head enough to do things differently, and goodness knows some modern methods are necessary."