"Well, there's a queer make-up!" observed Clark in profound surprise.
"He is certainly eccentric in his appearance," said Ralph. "I wonder who he can be."
"No, what he can be," corrected Clark, "for he's an odd genius of some kind, I'll wager."
The object of their interest and curiosity had heard the derisive hail from across the street. He halted dead short, stared around him like a person abruptly aroused from a dream, traced the call to its source, thrust the device with which h« had been experimenting into his pocket, and fixing his eyes on his mockers, started across the street The hoodlum crowd nudged one another, blinked, winked, and looked as if expecting developments of some fun. The object of their derision looked them over in a calculating fashion.
"Did any one here speak to me?" he asked.
"No, Wheels—it was the birdies calling you!" hooted a jocose voice.
"You sort of suggest something, somehow," drawled the lad in an abstracted, groping way. "Yes, certainly, let me see. What is it? Ah, perhaps I've made a memorandum of it."
The lad poked into several vest pockets. Finally he unearthed a card which seemed to be all written over, and he ran his eye down this. The crowd chuckled at the profound solemnity of his manner.
