“Ha! there is certainly a ventriloquist among us!” exclaimed Mr. Austin.
“I agree with you,” said the captain, “it is the only rational explanation of the phenomenon.”
“And it is yourself, sir?”
“No, sir; if I have any talent in that line it remains to be discovered by myself even.”
And without waiting for further embarrassing questions, the captain hurried to Max’s assistance.
Mr. Short did likewise, and for the next hour or more the display of the fireworks absorbed the attention of every one present, almost to the exclusion of thoughts on other matters.
It was quite a fine display—for the captain had been generous in his outlay for the celebration of the Fourth, and many were the expressions of delight and admiration from the crowd of spectators who had gathered to witness it.
There were rockets, squibs, Roman candles, Bengal lights, Catherine wheels, and others of more complicated structure, some of which sent out figures of men and animals.
One of these Max reserved for the last, and as a tiny figure of a man issued from the brilliant coruscation and darted upward, it cried out in the squeaky little voice that had troubled Mr. Riggs so often, “Good-by; I’m off!”
“There the feller is at last. I seen him this time,” screamed the old man. “Now did ye ever? how did he git in there? and how did he git out?”