"Say, Gene, if you've got to sleep at the top of your voice, you
better drag your bed down into the orchard," he growled. "Let up
a little, can't yuh?"

"Ah, shut up and let a fellow sleep!" mumbled Gene, snuggling the
covers up to his ears.

"Just what I want YOU to do. You snore like a sawmill. Darn it,
you've got to get out of the grove if yuh can't--"

"Ah-h-EE-EE!" wailed a voice somewhere among the trees, the sound
rising weirdly to a subdued crescendo, clinging there until one's
flesh went creepy, and then sliding mournfully down to silence.

"What's that?" The two jerked themselves to a sitting position,
and stared into the blackness of the grove.

"Bobcat," whispered Clark, in a tone which convinced not even
himself.

"In a pig's ear," flouted Gene, under his breath. He leaned far
over and poked his finger into a muffled form. "D'yuh hear that
noise, Grant?"

Grant sat up instantly. "What's tho matter?" he demanded, rather
ill-naturedly, if the truth be told.

"Did you hear anything--a funny noise, like--"

The cry itself finished the sentence for him. It came from