Still Bob would not wake.
"I'll make him get out and walk," said Frank. "This'll never do.
If he sleeps here, he may never wake again."
Saying this, Frank turned to open the carriage door to call to the driver. As he did so, he loosed his hold of Bob, who, being no longer stayed tip on that side, fell over on Frank's lap with his face downward.
Upon this, Frank turned back, and determined to lift Bob up again.
Shaking him as hard as he could, he yelled in his ears and shouted to him to get up.
Now Bob was asleep, yet in his sleep he had a kind of under consciousness of what was going on. He was stupidly conscious that they were trying to raise him up to an uncomfortable sitting posture—a bolt-upright position. This he was sleepily unwilling to submit to. There wasn't any particular strength in his hands, and his drowsy faculties didn't extend farther down than his head. He felt himself lying on something, and to prevent them from raising him from it, he seized it in his teeth.
"Bo-o-o-ob! Bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-b!" yelled Frank. "W-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ake u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-p!"
But Bob wouldn't.
He only held on the tighter with his teeth.
Upon this, Frank seized him with all his strength, and gave Bob a sudden jerk upward, when—