“It wasn’t that at all, you see,” explained the other. “But what Larry said has got on my nerves, just as I expected. I’m seeing things, that’s what!”
“Things that don’t happen to exist, you mean, I reckon?” asked Frank.
“Well, I suppose so. That’s always the way with me when I get anything on my mind. I just imagine I see it everywhere. Now, would you believe it, when I was coming across the field just now in the dark, for the old moon is just peeping up over the trees, I thought I glimpsed a figure that scuttled out of sight.”
“You did, eh?” said the other, eyeing him closely.
“Sure,” replied Andy. “Of course it was an optical delusion, as Professor Jarvey at high school would say, and there wasn’t anything there at all. But it gave me some start all the same. Hope I don’t dream about those desperate chaps tonight. If I wake you up by shouting, you’ll know it’s only a mild attack of nightmare. Just douse me with the contents of that water pail, and I’ll come out of it all right. I always do.”
“I’ll remember,” grinned Frank. “And as the bucket is nearly full just now, make up your mind, my boy, that you’re in for a jolly good swim if I’m compelled to upset it over you. I’d advise you to go slow about dreaming such things.”
“I will,” remarked Andy. “You give me cold feet already; but that isn’t a circumstance to what a beaut of a chill I’ll get if you douse me tonight.”
“But see here, perhaps you did see something?” observed the other, seriously.
“Nope,” said Andy. “The more I think of it the more I’m inclined to believe it was just my imagination that made me think I saw a fellow duck down behind that fence corner.”
“Did you go over to investigate?” continued Frank.