Page:Ned Wilding's Disappearance.djvu/211

Rh sure there were several birds in the room. When he got to the rear the notes of the feathered songster seemed more distinct than ever. The man climbed up on a chair to peer behind the window curtain, and, as he did so, John, whose vocal abilities were not alone limited to birds, let out a croak like a big frog.

"That's no bird!" exclaimed the man in disgust, as the crowd broke into a laugh at him. "Am I dreaming or what's the matter? Is this place haunted?"

Then he caught sight of John, who was just puckering up his lips to again imitate a bird.

"Oh, it's you, is it?" the man exclaimed. "Well you're a good one, all right, to fool me. I used to live in the woods and I know birds pretty well."

"That's where I learned to imitate 'em; in the woods," said John, glad of a chance to rest, for his lips and mouth were aching from the strain.

"Can you whistle tunes?" the man asked him.

"A little."

"Give us some music then. I like a good jolly song; and we'll join in the chorus."

Then John poured forth his melody in a series of popular songs, for he was a good whistler, aside from his power to mimic, and, for half an