“Well, how goes it to-night, boys?” he asked. “Oh, we’ve been bored to death all day,” answered Dick. “I never saw such weather!” “Oh, I don’t know,” said Billy. “I like a day like this once in awhile. I like to get out and feel the rain. Where’s Miss Emery to-night?” They explained that the weather had been too bad for her to come. “I see,” said Billy. “Well, what have you been doing to pass the time?” “Reading,” sighed Dick, “and playing two-handed euchre. Roy has been making a silly old map all day and wouldn’t say a word. Show him your map, Roy.” Roy did so and Billy praised it highly. “You’re a genuine chartographer, aren’t you?” he said. “Gee, Chub,” laughed Dick. “We called him everything else, but we never thought of that, did we?” But Chub only grunted. Ever since Billy’s entrance he had been sitting silent, watching the visitor as a cat watches a mouse. Roy kicked his shins once when Billy wasn’t looking and begged him not to be a silly fool, but Chub only looked wise and frowned. Soon Billy was telling stories, some warranted strictly true and some frankly impossible, but all interesting. The boys forgot their low spirits and laughed and applauded and begged for more. All save Chub. Chub sat and watched, soberly, like an avenging Fate. From tales Billy passed to ventriloquism and held an animated conversation with a man named Bill Jones who was presumably sitting astride the ridge-pole and doubtless getting very wet. “Gee!” said Dick admiringly. “I wish I could do that! Couldn’t you teach me?” “If there was time enough,” answered Billy. “But I’m going on in a week or so, and as it took me two months to learn what I know about it I guess it wouldn’t be worth while starting to teach you. It’s just a trick of the voice, but it takes a lot of practice. Now I’ll hold a key in my teeth. Professionals pretend that that’s a difficult stunt, but as a matter of fact it isn’t anything at all, because you keep your mouth still anyway.” “Were you ever on the stage?” asked Roy eagerly. Billy shook his head. “Not regularly,” he answered. “I did ventriloquism and sleight-of-hand tricks once for three nights.” “Oh, can you do tricks, too?” cried Dick. “A few,” replied Billy modestly. “I’m rather out of practice, I’m afraid. You’ve got to work every day to keep your muscles limber or you’re not much good. I’ll try a few card tricks, if you like.” So the cards were produced, and for the next quarter of an hour Billy Noon had Dick’s eyes popping out of his head. Chub still glowered, but it was noticeable that he leaned forward now and then and seemed pretty well interested in the Licensed Poet’s dexterous fingers. Then Billy did some palming tricks with, first, a coin and, afterward, a tennis-ball which Roy happened to have.