"I hear calling voices," he murmured to himself, "voices
calling, calling everywhere....it's wonderful... like a sea of voices
from the other side of the world... the whole world's singing...!"
"And look at the colour, will you?" urged Stumper, snatching it away
from the listener, who, seemed in danger of becoming entranced. "Why,
he's not only passed this way--he's actually touched it. That's his
touch, I tell you!"
"That's right," mumbled the Tramp, watching the whole performance with
approval. "Folks without something are always sharper than the
others." But this reference to a wooden leg was also too low for any
one to hear it.
Besides Stumper was saying something wonderful just then; he lowered
his voice to say it; there was suppressed excitement in him; he
frowned and looked half savagely at them all:
"I found other signs as well," he whispered darkly. "Two other signs.
In the darkness of those bushes I saw--another flash--two of 'em!" And
he slowly extended his other hand which till now he had kept behind
his back. It was tightly clenched. He unloosed the fingers gradually.
"Look!" he whispered mysteriously.
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