“He is sleeping in his talk—I mean, talking in his sleep,” whispered Rattleton. “He is thinking of the way he will fix the ghost. Oh, my! what a joke!”
Then he clasped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing aloud to think what fun they would have.
“Ven you peen all retty you said so,” muttered Hans, apparently continuing to talk in his sleep.
“Wal,” said the “ghost,” speaking aloud, to the astonishment of the boys behind the curtain, “I ruther guess ev’rything’s all ready. Let her rip!”
Then the curtain behind which the jokers crouched was suddenly snatched away.
At the same instant, Hans sat up in bed, and turned the stopcock of the hose.
Swish—spat!
A powerful stream of chilling water shot through the air directly toward that alcove. If struck the astounded boys, drenching them in a moment and knocking some of them over. The others piled upon the fallen ones, and all shouted with astonishment and disgust.
Then Hans, grasping the hose, bounced to his feet, standing upright in the middle of the bed, and poured the stream of cold water down upon that struggling, squirming mass in the corner.
“Oh, say, vot a shoke dot vos!” cried the Dutch boy, swaying the nozzle of the hose to evenly distribute the water over all the boys. “Ain’d you hafin’ fun mit us! I don’d belief you nefer seen der peat uf dese shoke before all your life in! You don’d vorget der fun vat you had mit us to-nighd a long dime in.”