“Oh, come on, Ned!”
“Don’t be a tight-wad!”
“I’ll sing for you,” announced The Fungus eagerly as he removed himself from Spud’s prostrate form. But this offer met with groans of derision and protest.
“If you open your mouth, Fungus, we’ll throw you out,” said Sandy decisively. “Come on, Ned, like a good chap.”
“But I tell you I’m tired—”
“It will rest you,” said Spud. “Nothing like music to soothe and rest you.”
“I know a lullaby,” suggested The Fungus.
“So do I,” answered Hoop darkly. “Mine’s a club. I’m not going down if The Fungus is going to howl.”
“If he tries it I’ll lick him,” said Spud. “I can lick him, you know. You fellows saw how I smeared him a minute ago.”
“How’s your old stub nose?” asked The Fungus maliciously. Spud felt of it and made a face.