“Oh, get back, Joe,” cried David, frantically pushing up the bed-clothes.
“Well, go on,” said Joel, huddling down again.
“And this boy was going along one day—”
“What was the boy’s name?” asked Joel suddenly.
“I don’t know,” said David helplessly.
“Don’t know,” Joel gave another kick to the clothes, and snorted, “Hoh!—you’re a great one, Dave Pepper, to tell a story about a boy and not know his name.”
“Well, it was—” David floundered helplessly, “Peter,” he brought out finally.
“All right,” said Joel, quite satisfied. “Now go on.”
“Well, one day, he was going to school.”
“Oh, don’t have him go to school,” whined Joel, dreadfully disappointed that a boy with such a satisfying name as Peter should waste time over books. “Make him going to shoot something—Go—Bang!” Joel threw up his arms, and screwed up one eye over an imaginary gun.