“Noon’s book-selling is a bigger thing than you think,” he replied.
[CHAPTER XVIII]
THE STORM
“Chub!
“Chub!!
“CHU-U-UB!!!”
“Eh?” asked Chub drowsily.
“Get up; it’s after eight o’clock,” said Roy.
“Pull the bedclothes off of him,” counseled a voice outside the tent which Chub, just dropping back to slumber, recognized as belonging to Dick.