“Now he’s going in to imitate animals,” explained Bob. “I understand that he’s been haunting the Zoo for weeks in every minute of his spare time studying the bears and lions and tigers and elephants and snakes, and getting their roars and growls and trumpeting and hisses down to a fine point. I bet he’ll be a riot when he gives them to us over the radio.”
“He sure will,” assented Herb. “He’s got the natural gift in the first place, and then he practices and practices until he’s got everything down to perfection.”
“He’s a natural entertainer,” affirmed Bob. “I tell you, fellows, we never did a better day’s work than when we got Larry that job at the sending station. Not only was it a good thing for Larry himself when he was down and out, but think of the pleasure he’s been able to give to hundreds of thousands of people. I’ll bet there’s no feature on the program that is waited for more eagerly than his.”
By this time the boys had reached the business portion of the town and the short spring day was drawing to a close. Already lights were beginning to twinkle in the stores that lined both sides of the street.
“Getting near supper time,” remarked Bob. “Guess we’d better be getting along home. Don’t forget to come—Gee whiz!”
The ejaculation was wrung from him by a snowball that hit him squarely in the breast, staggering him for a moment.
Bang! and another snowball found a target in Joe. It struck his shoulder and spattered all over his face and neck.
“That felt as though it came from a gun!” he exclaimed. “It’s the hardest slam I ever got.”
“Who did it?” demanded Bob, peering about him in the gathering darkness.
Halfway up the block they saw a group of dark figures darting into an alleyway.