A form fluttered out of the bushes and approached him excitedly.
"Ping!" gasped the cowboy. "Speak to me about this! Where'd you come from, Ping? And where's Pard Matt?"
The Chinese boy's feelings apparently defied expression. He tried to speak, but his lips moved soundlessly. Hopping up and down in his sandals, he waved his arms and pointed—not toward Grand Rapids, but off across a piece of rough woodland.
[CHAPTER VI.]
A BLUNDER IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.
Ping had felt certain that his move in touching off the Roman candle had not been seen. It was a disagreeable surprise to him, therefore, when Bill Wily told Carl just who was responsible for the fireworks.
Ping and Carl were trying hard to be pards. Their hearts were not in the attempt, for deep in the spirit of each one slumbered a latent animosity against the other. But they had to try to fraternize. Motor Matt had issued an edict to the effect that, if they did not become pards, he and McGlory would cut them out of the motor boys' combination.
So the lads did their utmost to appear friendly. They wandered around together, and whenever Matt or McGlory was in sight they locked arms and addressed each other in terms of endearment. When they were away from Matt and McGlory they still kept up the pretense, but in a manner that was more subdued.
Ping could not resist the temptation to touch a match to the Roman candle. He had not expected to cause such a disturbance, and the fact that chaos had reigned in the side show, and that his culpability had become known, filled him with apprehension.