"Sure enough, laddie," laughed Cousin Ronald, "they don't appear to be coming on very fast. I hear no more o' their music or their tramp, tramp. Do you?"
"No, sir; and I won't believe they are real live fellows till I see them."
"Well now, Ned," said Lucilla, "I really believe they are very much alive and kindly making a good deal of fun for us."
"Who, who, who?" came at that instant from among the branches of the tree near at hand—or at least seemed to come from there.
"Our two ventriloquist friends," replied Lucilla, gazing up into the tree as if expecting to see and recognize the bird.
"Oh, what was that?" exclaimed one of the little girls, jumping up in affright, as the squeak of a mouse seemed to come from among the folds of her dress.
"Nothing dangerous, my dear," said Mr. Dinsmore, drawing her into the shelter of his arms. "It was no mouse; only a little noise."
"Oh, yes, uncle, I might have known that," she said with a rather hysterical little laugh.
Just then the tramp, tramp was heard again apparently near at hand, at one side of the house, where the troops might be concealed by the trees and shrubs; the music of the drum and fife following the next moment.
"Oh," cried Ned, "won't they catch that fellow who just ran round to the kitchen as I told him to?"