"Looking for sheep," was the reply.
"Sheep?" exclaimed Waldo.
"Yes, sheep. You don't suppose I'm looking for giraffes, do you?"
"I don't see why you should expect to find either in my room," retorted
Waldo furiously.
"I can't argue the matter at this hour of the night," said Bertie, and
began hastily rummaging in the chest of drawers. Shirts and underwear
went flying on to the floor.
"There are no sheep here, I tell you," screamed Waldo.
"I've only got your word for it," said Bertie, whisking most of the
bedclothes on to the floor; "if you weren't concealing something you
wouldn't be so agitated."
Waldo was by this time convinced that Van Tahn was raving mad, and made
an anxious, effort to humour him.
"Go back to bed like a dear fellow," he pleaded, "and your sheep will
turn up all right in the morning."
"I daresay," said Bertie gloomily, "without their tails. Nice fool I
shall look with a lot of Manx sheep."
And by way of emphasising his annoyance at the prospect he sent Waldo's
pillows flying to the top of the wardrobe.
"But _why_ no tails?" asked Waldo, whose teeth were chattering with fear
and rage and lowered temperature.
"My dear boy, have you never heard the ballad of Little Bo-Peep?" said
Bertie with a chuckle. "It's my character in the Game, you know. If I
didn't go hunting about for my lost sheep no one would be able to guess
who I was; and now go to sleepy weeps like a good child or I shall be
cross with you.
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