“No,” remarked Herbert gravely; “there are many things happening in this world that we cannot understand.”
“But it surprises me to see how easily you take all this. Now I should want to hunt him out and send him about his business before he does any mischief.”
“Perhaps that might be the better plan,” returned Harold. “Here, Prince,” as Max’s dog was seen slowly approaching, “hunt out that fellow yonder,” pointing to the clump of bushes from which the voice had seemed to come. “Sick him! sick him!”
At that Prince pricked up his ears, wagged his tail, and rushed toward the bushes barking furiously; but only for a moment or two, evidently finding no one there. He came slowly back with lowered tail and drooping ears, plainly feeling that he had been sold, and mortified that he had fallen into the trap laid for his unwary feet.
“Poor fellow,” said Herbert, “that chap seems as hard to find as the bugler was a while ago; but never mind—you did your best.”
“Take him to the kitchen, Sam, and comfort him with a good dinner,” said Grandma Elsie to a servant.
“Well, Croly, what is it?” laughed Herbert. “You really look as if you had put on your thinking cap.”
“Yes, so I have,” returned Croly, glancing searchingly about, “and the conclusion I’ve reached is that we must have a ventriloquist among us. The next question is, who is he?”
“A ventriloquist!” exclaimed Mary Keith. “How delightful! Such fun as we shall have if that is really the case! But who can it be? You, captain?” looking searchingly at him.
“I should be very willing to plead guilty to the charge could I do so truthfully, Cousin Mary,” he replied in a playful tone.