quick pat at his shoulder--the Rings were not much at kissing each
other. "If you can't take care of yourself by now, you never will be
able to. I know you're as anxious as you can be about Tod--I do hope
it turns out that you are right about him."

With a muttered, "I've got to be right," Jerry set about making
himself a couple of substantial sandwiches and stuffing them in the
pocket of his canvas hunting coat, which he took along for
emergencies. "Good-bye, ma," he called over his shoulder. "I'll be
back as soon as I can bring Tod with me."

Once outside, he wasted no time but struck off at once cross-lots to
rout out Dave Thomas and Frank Ellery. Fortunately Frank came first,
otherwise Jerry might not have been equal to the task of waking up
Dave. They tried everything they had ever heard of. They tickled his
feet; they set off a brass-lunged alarm clock under his very nose;
they dumped him roughly out of his bed, but even on the bare floor
he slumbered peacefully on. Cold water brought only temporary
success. They were in despair.

It was Frank who finally solved the problem. Seating himself on the
foot of the bed, he raised his head much in the fashion of a hound
baying at the moon--the sound that issued from his throat would put
to shame the most ambitious hound that ever howled. Jerry caught up
a pillow and would have shied it at the head of the offender, but
the perfectly serious look on Frank's face withheld his arm.
Gradually it dawned on him that the boy was trying to sing--and,
more than that, it was one of Dave's favorite songs he was
murdering.