“I know we wouldn’t,” said Winona confidently, and pressed the horn again, which put a stop to conversation.
Meanwhile Tom, on the grandstand, was seeing them, and being very proud of his relationship to the “Ship o’ the Fiend.” The black-covered canoe, with its belt of shivering fire and its weird occupants, showed up gloriously. The irregularly hung lanterns looked more like skulls than Winona had dared to hope in her wildest moments. All the little demons and skeletons danced realistically on their invisible wires in the air, and, crown of all, the nearly-life-size skeleton swung above, with the witch and the demon watching him from either end, as he roasted above the Greek fire. An occasional shriek from the Gabriel horn gave the final touch. The whole thing was like a vision out of a Poe story, or some German goblin-legend. The people took to clapping as they went by.
“I believe they’re clapping for us!” said Winona awedly, as a burst of it came to their ears over the water.
“Sure they are,” said Billy. “Shows their good sense, too. It’s a mighty good looking canoe we have.”
“Can we photograph you, please?” said a polite voice before Winona could answer—and lo, the reporter’s boat!
“This is glory!” said Winona, snapping down her mask, and being frankly delighted. “Just think, Billy, we may be in the paper!”
The reporter asked questions and fussed with his flashlight apparatus, and finally took two exposures. They kept very still while the flashlight was exploding, and answered the reporters in full.
“The designer of your decorations certainly was very clever, and had a vivid imagination,” ended the smallest reporter as the press-boat went on its way.
Winona sat up straight, and looked very proud.
“At last I’m appreciated!” she said. “Don’t you wish you had a vivid imagination, too, Billy?”