That man's name was Pedro De Vail, and he was French, only he was born in Hoboken. He was the greatest ventriloquist in the whole world. He said so, and gee whiz, he ought to know. Westy said that when he said anything, it counted for a whole lot, because he could say it in half a dozen different voices. But, oh, boy, Pee-wee lost his voice entirely. Anyway, Mr. Pedro said it didn't make any difference, because he had a lot of voices to spare. I guess he kind of liked Pee-wee.

As long as we were there we made him a call, and I guess he'd be pretty good at stalking, because he could imitate all the animals and birds, and he could make you think he was sawing wood. He said that the place where we were was the Fair Grounds, and that the next day the Firemen's Carnival was going to start there. He said it was going to last three days. He said he always went to County Fairs and Carnivals and things like that. He told us that Flimdunk was about a couple of miles away.

We told him all about our adventures and about the Brewster's Centre car. I said, "As long as we're here, I'm glad of it, because we can take in the Carnival. I hope that train twenty-three doesn't come until late to-morrow; I hope it doesn't come until to-morrow night. Better late than sooner."

He said, "Well, there are going to be big doings to-morrow—races, balloon ascension, murders and everything like that. But I'm afraid you boys are going to be disappointed. There's a train comes through here about four or five in the morning, going east. I think that'll be the one to pick you up."

We went back to our car feeling pretty glum about it. Jiminies, you couldn't blame us. What was the good of being left at a carnival in the middle of the night and taken away again before daylight? That's one thing I don't like about railroads; they do just as they please. They push you and pull you around and take you away again before you want to go.

"Why can't they let us spend Columbus Day here?" Westy wanted to know.

"When did the brakeman say it would come?" Connie asked.

"Hanged if I remember," I said; "but I knew how it would be when I heard that the train would be Number Twenty-three. I'll never trust that number."

"And races and everything, too," Wig said.

"Sure, and a balloon ascension," Connie began grouching.

"Maybe he's mistaken," I said; "we've had pretty good fun, anyway."

"You call it fun, starting away just when the fun is going to begin?" Pee-wee piped up.

I guess we didn't know what to think or what to expect. Anyway, I knew that the train that had left us there would telegraph to some place or other about us, that was all I knew. When another train stopped for us, we'd just have to go.

"Anyway, let's have something to eat and turn in," I said; "we'll just have to trust to luck."

One sure thing, we all felt pretty bad, because the next day was a holiday and there'd be lots of fun at that Carnival. I made some rice cakes and then we fixed the seats and turned in.

I don't know how long I had been asleep, but what made me wake up was the whistle of a locomotive. Westy woke up, too, and we both listened.

"It's coming," he said.

"The game is up," I told him.

Pretty soon we were all awake, listening. The train was backing down along the branch track and coming nearer and nearer to us. We could hear the engine puffing, and the sound of wheels going ker-lick, ker-lick, as the train backed in very slowly. Gee whiz, I was feeling sore.

"Come on out on the platform," Westy said.

"This railroad makes me sick," Connie grouched.

"Why couldn't they wait until to-morrow night?" Wig wanted to know. "I thought we were going to have a good day's fun."

Out on the platform all we saw was a man sitting on the railing in the dark.

"Where's the pesky old train, anyway?" I said.

"Train?" the man said; "what train?"

Then he just reached forward and ruffled up our young hero's hair.

I was all flabbergasted. "Mr. Pedro!" I just blurted out.

"I thought I'd pay you back, that's all," he said.

Oh, boy, couldn't that man imitate a train!