"They're on the landscape," I told him; "come on, we'll go and stalk them before they sneak away. Get up, you lazy ..."
Just then Connie Bennett rolled over and sat up and tried to keep his eyes open while he looked out of the window.
"Wass become Bridgeboro?" he said.
"It just went out to get some rolls for breakfast," I said; "it'll be right back."
"Where are we at?" he wanted to know.
"Search me," I told him; "all I know is I was rolling down a hill on a barrel and Charlie Chaplin was running after me. There's the barrel out there now."