“Gee! How my head aches! And my mouth tastes like the New York subway smells.”
He looked across to where Chick was stirring in his narrow bed, and tried to remember where he was.
“Chick!”
“Huh?” responded Chick.
“Why don’t you get up?”
“What time is it?” came the drowsy response.
Patsy did not answer. He was gradually getting his thoughts together, and he determined that this was not like Chick’s ordinary demeanor in the morning, no matter how late he might have retired the night before.
“Chick!”
“All right!”
It was not Chick’s real voice that responded, but a muffled echo of his usual incisive tones.