"Where do they bite where you can't hear them coming?"
"Legs and ankles," said Snorky instantly.
"Bright boy—you're getting closer."
"Danged if I can see it."
"Protect the ankles and the mosquito starves—am I right?"
"Hurry up," said Snorky, who by this time recognized that the first reasoning processes were simply eliminatory.
"That was my problem," said Skippy, frowning impressively. "Here is the answer—this is how it came to me." He went to the bureau and passed his hand into a sock, two fingers projecting through the devastated regions. "What do you call this?"
"That—that's my sock."
"You call 'em hole-proof socks," said Skippy, ignoring the aspersion. "You get it? You don't? Suppose we change it, suppose we use the same organization but call it—Mosquito-Proof Socks."
"Mosquito-Proof Socks!" said Snorky in a whisper.