"Wish you'd tell me," sputtered the cow-puncher, looking about him, and still gripping his gun, "I never saw the like in all my born days."
"Well, what did it look like?"
"Hard to tell you," rejoined Pete. "It was as big as that." He pointed right up at the moon.
"As tall as the moon? Oh, come, Pete, you had dropped off and were dreaming," laughed Ralph.
"Who said it was as tall as the moon?" demanded the excited cow-puncher angrily. "I only meant to convey to your benighted senses some idee uv what it luked like."
"Well, how high was it?" asked Jack, in whose tones was a curious note of interest, for a reason we can guess.
"About twenty feet, as near's I could judge. It had red eyes, that glared like the tail-lamps of a train, and it spat fire, and it——"
"Whoa! Whoa!" laughed Walt Phelps. "Now we know it was a nightmare, Pete. The dream of a rarebit fiend. You ate too much crackers and cheese at supper."
"How was it we didn't see it?" asked Ralph, who had not spoken up till now.
"Why, you were lying with your back toward the direction it came from," explained Pete.