“You should take something for your nerves,” advised Frank. “It’s plain you have bad dreams. Why don’t you try Mrs. Soothlow’s Wynsling Syrup?”
Browning got hold of a chair, and threw it at Frank, who dodged, and the chair knocked down a mirror.
“You’ll have a nice little bill to pay when you settle for things here,” said Diamond.
“You go to blazes!” cried the enraged giant. “You come round here and grin at me, and you never had sense enough to think up a good practical joke in all your life! Get out of here! Get out lively, if you want to escape with your life!”
“Alas! alas!” exclaimed Frank, with a tragedy pose. “He is mad!”
“You bet I’m mad!” agreed Bruce. “I’m madder than a wet setting hen! I’ll get back at you for this job!”
He got onto his hands and knees, for the purpose of rising, but Merry promptly pushed him over with his foot, causing the big fellow to gnash his teeth.
“Fellows,” said Merry, “we must commit him to an asylum for the violently insane. It is plain that he’s dangerous.”
Browning tore off the baffling bedspread, and again struggled to get up, actually intending to wreak vengeance on them by personal violence; but Merry caught hold of two ends of the spread, and tripped him up with a loop of it, while Rattleton basted him on the head with a pillow, and Diamond picked up all the clothes and flung them on top of him. To finish the job, Merry turned the bedstead over upon him.
“Now, will you be good?” chirped Rattleton.