“Well?”
“Got any mosquitoes where you are?”
“Have I. Plenty! Want some?”
“No, thanks.” A few minutes later,
“For goodness’ sake, you fellows,” called Chub, “what’s all that squeaking in there?”
“It’s my bed,” answered Roy. “It squeaks every time I turn over.”
“Well, don’t turn over then,” grumbled Chub.
And finally, just when Dick and Roy were on the borderland of slumber, Chub’s voice floated across again.
“Say, Dick!”
“What?”