Their five cots were arranged just as they had been before, but somehow they did not now seem so comfortable. Peewee growled about his nightshirt, and Cloudman snickered. In the dark the little fellow tried to smash his tormentor with his own hard, hay-stuffed pillow. When he got hold of it again the pillow was wet.
"The water's leaking in under the tent, King!" snarled Peewee. "You got us in a nice mess!"
"In the morning you shall take a pick and shovel, honey, and dig a nice trench all around."
"I'll see you hanged first!" bawled the rebel.
"Go to sleep and forget it," advised Red.
They all got to sleep finally. But it was not yet morning when they were awakened again by Peewee, who seemed to be having a nightmare.
"That blamed infant!" Midkiff was saying with shocking emphasis. "I never did see such a pestiferous insect."
Hicks was squealing: "Stop it! Stop! 'Tain't time to get up. That's only the first bell. Slop any more of that water on me, and I won't leave you enough to wash your face in!"
"Somebody please hit him on the head with the hatchet," urged Phillips.
"Ouch!" bawled the now thoroughly awakened Peewee. "I'm all afloat."