"Where can he sleep?" he asked Margaret.

"I'm sure I don't know," she answered.

"Oh, I can sleep ist any place," said Billy. "On the floor or anywhere.
Home, I sleep on pa's coat on a store-box, and Jimmy and Belle they
sleep on the storebox, too. I sleep between them, so's I don't roll off
and crack my head. Ain't you got a storebox and a old coat?"

Wesley arose and opened a folding lounge. Then he brought an armload of
clean horse blankets from a closet.

"These don't look like the nice white bed a little boy should have,
Billy," he said, "but we'll make them do. This will beat a storebox all
hollow."

Billy took a long leap for the lounge. When he found it bounced, he
proceeded to bounce, until he was tired. By that time the blankets had
to be refolded. Wesley had Billy take one end and help, while both of
them seemed to enjoy the job. Then Billy lay down and curled up in his
clothes like a small dog. But sleep would not come.

Finally he sat up. He stared around restlessly. Then he arose, went to
Wesley, and leaned against his knee. He picked up the boy and folded his
arms around him. Billy sighed in rapturous content.

"That bed feels so lost like," he said. "Jimmy always jabbed me on one
side, and Belle on the other, and so I knew I was there. Do you know
where they are?"