Pom-per-pom! pom-per-pom! pom-per-pom!
“Thunder!” snorted the Vermonter, sitting up and giving his blanket a fling. “Where be we, anyhaow?”
“I don’d told you!” exclaimed Hans, in sudden alarm. “You explain dot to mineself!”
“Here!” came from beneath another blanket that was spread on the floor; “what are you chaps raking such a mow about—I mean making such a row about?”
Then Harry lifted his head and peered around in the semi-darkness.
In all directions heads were lifted, and the voice of Bruce Browning growled:
“Talk about your hard beds! I have stopped in all sorts of hotels, but I never struck a bed like this before! What sort of a ranch is this, anyhow?”
Pom-pom! pom-pom! pom-pom!
“Heavens!” gurgled Diamond, popping bolt upright and holding his hands over his ears. “What infernal noise is that?”
Then all the boys sat up, staring at each other questioningly.