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"Well, you are, anyhow. You slept here all night."

Hugh struggled to digest this intelligence. He found it most alarming.

"It wasn't your fault," said Nita, kindly. "You didn't know anything about it. Pazo carried you here after you'd gone to sleep."

"Where's Jeff?" came swiftly.

"He's somewhere about. He's all right, so you needn't worry."

"But why did Pazo bring me here?"

"They thought you were sick. You went to sleep under a bush, an' they couldn't wake you up. There was an awful fuss," said Nita, greatly enjoying her position as historian. "They put your head in a bucket, or something. That was Jeff an' Micky."

Hugh found this altogether beyond his comprehension.

"Are you telling me a whole bundie of whoppers?" "No, I'm not. Cross-me-heart-an'-hope-I-may-die, I'm not. You can ask Mummy. She'11 be in d'reckly—minute."

"What did Jeff and Micky put me in a bucket for, then? I bet they didn't!"

"Only your head. They couldn't wake you up, an' it was nearly time for your turn. Pazo helped 'em. But it was all no good," she concluded sadly.

Hugh was galvanized suddenly into complete wakefulness. He sat up with a jerk, his eyes wide with horror.

"You—you don't mean to teil me I let the show down!"

Nobody s cross—not a bit. At least, Daddy's awfully