Once more Ba'tiste leaned forward and wiggled his fingers as if in preparation for a new assault, and once more Barry withdrew his pedal extremities to a place of safety.
"Please don't," he begged.

"I--I don't know what kind of a game you're playing--and I'm perfectly willing to join in on it when I feel better--but now it hurts my arm to be bouncing around this way.

Maybe this afternoon--if you've got to play these fool games--I'll feel better--" The thunder of the other man's laugh cut him off.

Ba'tiste was now, it seemed, in a perfect orgy of merriment.

As though weakened by his laughter, he reeled to the wall and leaned there, his big arms hanging loosely, the tears rolling down his cheeks and disappearing in the gray beard, his face reddened, his whole form shaking with series after series of chuckles.
"You hear heem ?" he gasped at the wolf-dog.