“Not yours! Whose is it, then? Let’s see. Gee, it’s mine, Cal!”
Ned’s grin gave way to amazement, and then for an instant suspicion returned.
“You put this in there last night, Cal,” he said soberly.
“I did! What do you mean?”
“What I say. You’re a somnambulist.”
Cal stared, doubtful.
“What—what did you say I was?” he demanded ominously.
“A somnambulist; a sleep-walker; I saw you last night! You went to your trunk and rummaged around and then came over here, opened that drawer, and I heard you fussing with the apples. I thought you wanted one to eat. Then you went back to bed and I spoke to you and you didn’t answer. I spoke twice. Did you know you were up? Do you remember it?”
“No.” Cal shook his head, his eyes wide with surprise. “I never did that before, Ned,” he said wonderingly. “Are you—sure? You didn’t just dream it?”