“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Ten thousand, four hundred and sixty-seven.”
“Good!” cried Joe, and, unconsciously perhaps, he imitated the language, manner and gestures of Professor Rosello. “Now then,” went on the boy wizard, “you three boys each set down a separate number. None of you knew what the others wrote, and Tom, who didn’t write any figures, announces the sum of the other three fellows’ numbers to be ten thousand four hundred and sixty-seven. Am I right, Tom?”
“That’s right Here’s the paper. I’m sure I added ’em up right.”
“Well, I’ve no doubt but you did, Tom. Now then, I think you’ll agree that I didn’t know beforehand what numbers you fellows were going to write, so, of course, I couldn’t tell what they’d add up to. Could I?”
“I don’t see how you could,” admitted Henry, but a little doubtfully.
“Well, now comes the magic part. I’m going, without touching it, to cause this sum, which Tom announces as ten thousand four hundred and sixty-seven, to appear on that flat stone Charlie holds under the handkerchief. I won’t touch the stone, which answers the same purpose as the professor’s slate. But I’ll take the paper you have, Tom, with the sum of ten thousand four hundred and sixty-seven on it,” and Joe did so.
“Now to make the trick more simple I’ll just burn this paper with the sum on, where you can all see it,” Joe went on. He held up the paper in plain sight and set fire to it with a match.
“I will now pronounce the magic words: oshkalaloolu presto, smacko! The sum has now vanished in smoke, and will appear on the flat stone. Charlie, lift the handkerchief and hold up the stone so we can all see it.”