"Well?"
"Bring your cot out here. I'll let you sleep for an hour by my
watch. Then I'll call you, and you hold the watch and let me
sleep for an hour. There is no sense in both of us losing our
rest at the same time. Yet, if either fellow needs the other,
he'll have him right under his hand."
"All right," nodded Dave. "Anything, as long as I'm not accused
of being a sleepy head."
"A sleepy head?" Prescott repeated. "Why, when I called to you
fellows for help you were the only one who responded. No; I wouldn't
call you an incurable sleepy head, Darry."
Now wholly restored to good humor Dave went back into the tent,
lifting his cot and bringing it out to within a few feet of the
campfire.
"You take the first nap, Dick," begged Dave.
"No; you take it."
"But I'm not sleepy; honestly I'm not."
So Prescott lay down on the cot, closing his eyes.
The sunlight, streaming into his face, awakened him.
"Why---why---where's Darry?" thought Dick, sitting up straight.
The sound of deep breathing answered him. Dave sat with his back
propped against a tree, sound asleep. He had slept for hours,
evidently, having fallen asleep through sheer, uncontrollable
drowsiness.
Rising from the cot Dick stretched himself for he was still drowsy.
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