“Bob! Oh, Bob!” Someone was calling him—someone in the far distance, he thought.
“Huh!” ever so drowsily.
“Bob! Bob Taylor! Wake up!”
“Hel—hello!” the boy grunted.
“Here! Wake up, you lazy pest! Do you hear me? Ah-hah! Do you feel me?”
“Ouch!”—petulantly—“Quit! Quit, I say!”
Someone was twitching and pinching the lad’s ear. He stirred, opened his eyes, flounced over upon his stomach and raised his head. There stood the Little Green Goblin of Goblinville, grinning down at him.
“Fitz!” the boy cried, springing to his feet and holding out his hand.
“Fitz Mee!”