“Can you add?” he asked.
Johnny ran his eyes over the figures. “Nine hundred and fifty-eight!” he said, as he returned the paper to the Chief of Detectives.
“Not half enough!” said the Chief of Detectives, as he pulled six little levers. There was a steady buzz-buzz that grew louder and louder every minute.
Johnny watched the hands on the dials climb and climb.
“Fifteen hundred and ninety-eight!” he cried out, presently.
“That’s better!” said the Chief of Detectives. “Give the Soft-Voiced Cow some of that popcorn in the green box; it has no mustard on it!”
“He’s hopping to beat the band!” Gran’ma cried delightedly, as the Chief of Detectives came up to where they were watching the Magician.
“I should think he would!” said the man. “I turned on the current twice as hard!”
Just then they saw the Dancing Master coming over the hill into the valley.
“Here he comes now!” cried Gran’pa. “It’s your brother, Tiptoe!”