HEAR JOHN NEWTON, THE GREAT
BIRD WHISTLER.
"John Newton," murmured Fenn. "That name sounds familiar."
"Of course it does," replied Frank. "That's the name of the chap who was expelled from our high school last term."
"So it was. But this can't be the same one."
"I think it is," suggested Fenn. "Don't you remember, he said he was going to New York to be an actor? I heard he had some sort of a job in a theater. Maybe this is he. Let's go in and see."
They bought tickets and entered. The whistling was the last thing on the program, the theater being one where a "continuous performance" was given. A boy came out on the stage and began to whistle, giving imitations of various birds. He did very well, but the three chums were more interested in the identity of the lad than in his performance.
"It is John Newton, from Darewell," whispered Bart. "I never knew he could whistle like that."
"He was always practicing at it," declared
