He put on such a comical look of pretended dismay that Sam Randall burst out laughing.
"No, Dave, nothing like that, it's the finest thing. Why I—"
"Must be," yawned Dave. "Say, can't you chase that bee away? It keeps buzzing around my head and wakes me up."
"Yes, it's the best scheme that was ever thought of," continued Sam, without heeding the interruption. "What do you think—"
"That the afternoon will be over before you tell me," said Dave, lazily.
He once more moved a very short distance, this time because the rays of the sun were beginning to creep around the willows.
"Well, listen, Dave," persisted the other, and his voice was earnest; "I'm almost bubbling over with enthusiasm; Bob Somers is going to form—"
"Wish he was here, trying to catch that bee."
"Well, I must say—"
"Must say what?" repeated Dave, with provoking slowness. "It is an awful nuisance to have a great big insect buzzing close to your ear. Aren't you going to chase it away for me?"