Mark quieted down a little, and I remembered to stir about like he said. Collins stood it a few minnits and then nudged me with his elbow. “Binney,” says he, “want me to sing you to sleep?”
“No,” says I. “Why?”
“Because,” says he, “I’d be willing to do ’most anything to get you still. You wiggle like an angleworm.”
“I hain’t comfortable,” I told him.
“Well,” says he, “I hope you tire yourself out pretty soon. You’re tirin’ me.”
At that Mark pinched my arm.
We kept quiet after that for quite a while, maybe half an hour. Every minnit or so Mark would pinch me, and if he missed I’d pinch him. That way there wasn’t any danger of our going to sleep.
Both Collins and Jiggins began to snore. I laid as still as I could and never wiggled even an eyelash. After a while Mark nudged me with his elbow.
“S-s-squirm some,” says he, under his breath.
I moved my legs and twisted my shoulders. Collins sort of grunted in his sleep and threw up his arm, but he didn’t wake. I could feel Mark moving on the other side of me, and then Jiggins muttered something in a drowsy voice. He didn’t sound a quarter awake.