Carefully selecting the branches that he wanted, he stuck one after another of them into the ground, stem down, until he had outlined a fairly good bed. This done, he continued setting more of the green limbs, pushing each firmly into the ground until the mass became so thick and matted that it resembled a green hedge.
"There," he announced. "One bed is ready for you."
"Call that a bed?" sniffed Stacy. "Why, that wouldn't hold a baby. He'd fall through the slats."
"Try it. Lie down on it," smiled Lige.
Chunky did so, gingerly, then little by little a sheepish smile crept over his countenance.
"Why, it does hold me up."
"Of course it does."
"Say, fellows, this is great. It's softer than any feather bed I ever slept in. But it wouldn't be half so funny if a fellow made a mistake and got a branch off a thorn bush; would it, now?"
One after the other, the boys took turns in trying the new bed, and each was enthusiastic over it.
"I'll never sleep on any other kind as long as I live," decided Ned. "I'll have a tent in the back yard and a pine bed under it. What do you say, fellows?"