Then he caught sight of John, who was just puckering up his lips to again imitate a bird.
“Oh, it’s you, is it?” the man exclaimed. “Well you’re a good one, all right, to fool me. I used to live in the woods and I know birds pretty well.”
“That’s where I learned to imitate ’em; in the woods,” said John, glad of a chance to rest, for his lips and mouth were aching from the strain.
“Can you whistle tunes?” the man asked him.
“A little.”
“Give us some music then. I like a good jolly song; and we’ll join in the chorus.”
Then John poured forth his melody in a series of popular songs, for he was a good whistler, aside from his power to mimic, and, for half an hour the lodging house rang with the voices of the men, led by John’s shrill notes.
All this while Bart and the others kept a close lookout for Ned. They did not see him, and, when it was evident that all the inmates of the place had come under their scrutiny, the boys left, their mission unsuccessful. And so it was for several evenings.
Meanwhile Ned, all unconscious of the search being made for him, was puzzling his brains as to what he had better do. He was in no immediate danger of starving, as there were several snowstorms, and he earned enough to pay for his room and live frugally. Still he knew his father and chums would worry but he did not feel he dare communicate with them. He bought the papers each day, and saw several references to the swindling operations of Skem & Skim. They had not been arrested yet, it stated, and search was being made for them and for a young fellow who was believed to have helped them in their operations by dealing in a number of shares of oil stock.
“That means me,” thought Ned, as he read it. “I’ve got to lay low yet.”