“But you don’t believe it?” said his wife, staring at him open-mouthed.
“I do,” said the engineer firmly.
“But how can it know what I’m doing when I’m away?” persisted Mrs. Gannett.
“Ah, that’s its secret,” said the engineer; “a good many people would like to know that, but nobody has found out yet. It’s a magic bird, and when you’ve said that you’ve said all there is to say about it.”
Mrs. Gannett, wrinkling her forehead, eyed the marvellous bird curiously.
“You’ll find it’s quite true,” said Gannett; “when I come back that bird’ll be able to tell me how you’ve been and all about you. Everything you’ve done during my absence.”
“Good gracious!” said the astonished Mrs. Gannett.
“If you stay out after seven of an evening, or do anything else that I shouldn’t like, that bird’ll tell me,” continued the engineer impressively. “It’ll tell me who comes to see you, and in fact it will tell me everything you do while I’m away.”
“Well, it won’t have anything bad to tell of me,” said Mrs. Gannett composedly, “unless it tells lies.”
“It can’t tell lies,” said her husband confidently, “and now, if you go and put your bonnet on, we’ll drop in at the theatre for half an hour.”