“Don’t you feel well?”

“Well enough—that isn’t it.”

“But what is, then?”

Poke hesitated; he seemed to be struggling between eagerness and reluctance.

“I—I—well, something’s going to happen.”

“What?” Sam demanded.

“Just wish I knew!” cried Poke fervently.

Sam took him by the shoulder, and shook him vigorously.

“Wake up, Poke! You’re dreaming.”

Oddly enough, Poke caught at the suggestion.