"It's me," said Billy. "I guess I must have got in the wrong
tent. Have I been walking in my sleep?"

"How should I know?" laughed Harry. "You are in the wrong tent,
that's all I do know. Arthur and I have this tent. Aren't you
in with young Jesse W. Smith?"

"I thought I was," said Billy dolefully, "but I seem to have got
twisted up a bit to-night. I've had the stomach ache."

"That will twist any one," chuckled Harry, "but really it is no
laughing matter, my boy."

"No, I should say not. Well, I think I had better cut my call short.
Would you kindly show me the way to my own tent?"

This was said in such a comical, and at the same time doleful tone,
that Harry was forced to laugh.

"Why, certainly," he chuckled. "You've got on the wrong street, that
is all. You can go through right here without having to go to the
top or bottom and then down or up."

"Who is on the other side of the street?" asked Billy.

"Jones and Robinson."

"H'm! and they are right back of us. All right. I guess I can find
the way now all right."