"Hey!" Terry called.
"Hey yourself! Who're you?" the other boy said.
"Terry Blair. What in the heck is this place? What's your name?" He had a funny feeling in his stomach, and he was hot and sweaty. He wanted to hear the other boy's voice again.
"Quit your kiddin'—Terry Blair's my brother!"
"What're you talking about, anyway?" Terry said, wondering if the other boy was trying to pick a fight. "I'm Terry Blair all right, and I know my brother when I see him! He's Mike Blair, and he don't look anything like you."
"Say who are you anyhow? Somebody tell you my name or something? You aren't awful funny."
"Neither are you, tryin' to imitate the way Mike talks."
There were stirrings in some of the other beds, and somebody mumbled "Pipe down!" Terry tried to be quiet getting out of the bunk. He stood up, felt a little light-headed, and walked over to the other's bed. He sat at its foot. The light feeling—and it seemed to be all over him now—wouldn't go away.
"Come on, don't be wise. What is this place?"
"Don't be wise yourself! How should I know? Maybe it's a hospital. I must've got sick down cellar or something when Dad turned on the Contraption—"