"Come," he mumbled.
"Jump in," directed Carey. "You'll be useful explaining the 'fall' up at the house!"
As they went on their way, the young express agent experienced a striking sensation.
A topsy-turvy day of excitement was ending with the peculiar combination of his riding in the same carriage with his most bitter enemy, and acting the good Samaritan.
They proceeded slowly, or rather cautiously, for the popping and banging had recommenced all over town.
Carey had to keep the spirited horses in strong check as they passed groups of boys, reckless of the quantity of firecrackers they deliberately fired off as the team neared them.
Suddenly the horses were pulled to their haunches with a vociferous shout. The cab swerved and creaked, and the horses' hoofs beat an alarming tattoo on the cobblestones.
"Whoa! whoa!" yelled Bill Carey. "You young villains! get that infernal machine out of the way. Can't you see—"
Bart stuck his head out of the cab window to view an animated scene.
A fourteen-inch cannon cracker was hissing and spitting out smoke barely two feet ahead of the terrified horses in the middle of the street.