going.”

Bob kicked a cluster of the shells near his feet, then facing about resolutely, started to lead the way across the plateau, into the strip of wood, down the narrowest point of the ravine, up the other side, which was quite steep, and finally they were standing on the clear space they had picked out from the terrace. The site was bare except for a couple of rather large growths more than half way across, and the Sky Buddies noticed that it seemed to be fringed with a dense timber and long trailing vines. In every way it was an ideal location for their purpose and now they were actually away from the depressing ruins, they sighed with relief.

“We’ve been doing a lot of mooning around,” Jim remarked cheerfully. “Let’s make up for lost time.”

“There’s plenty of dry brush for the fire.” Bob glanced into the sky, then scrutinized the heavens closely, while Jim devoted himself to getting acquainted with the vicinity. “Not a wing—” But he was interrupted by a hearty laugh which rang merrily from his step-brother’s throat.

“What in the name of cat-soup and fish is the matter with you?” he demanded, but he stared at this pal anxiously. “You didn’t catch anything from Mills, did you?”

“No,” Jim answered, then went off again into gales of laughter. It was so loud and hearty that a sleepy echo caught it up and passed it around experimentally until it seemed as if the top of the world was indulging in a grand ha-ha-ha.

“Hey, Old Sour-dough, can it! We’ll never get anything done if you indulge in hi-strikes—”

“Ha, ha, ha-ah-haa,” roared Jim. Tears began to roll down his cheeks and he doubled up helplessly as he laughed.

“Ha-ha-ha,” Bob repeated mechanically.

“Ha-ha-ha—” Jim kept it up and it came from his very boots.

“Say, am I so funny?” demanded Bob. He was becoming convinced that Jim’s mind was badly affected by the strain of the past twenty-four hours, and he didn’t wonder. “Come on, Pal, snap out of it—that won’t do you any good—not a bit. Why, you are acting worse than if some one was tickling the soles of your feet—”

“I’m tickled all over,” Jim gasped merrily.

“At what—be yourself or tell me what has set you off—I don’t see anything to laugh at—”

“No?”

 Prev. P 49/91 next