Every time Pete would pull the queue a sharp wail would go up from Ping, and every time the fishline was jerked Pete would howl and squirm.
"You boys ought to be ashamed of yourselves," said Matt, masking his desire to laugh with all the severity he could muster.
Lorry was leaning against a tree, his head bowed and his whole form in a quiver.
"Leavee go China boy's pigtail!" chirped Ping.
"Stop yo' pullin' on dat 'ar fishline!" howled Pete.
"Let go, both of you!" ordered Matt; then forcibly he pulled the two lads apart. "Here, Lorry," he called, "you hang onto Ping and I'll take care of Pete."
The youngsters were a disordered pair when separated and held at a distance from each other.
"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Matt.