the big art of making a living and a reputation. Good night,
old fellow! Dream of the folks back in Gridley. I'm going to."

"And of the chums at West Point and Annapolis," gaped Hazelton.
"God bless them!"

That was not the only short prayer sent up, but within five minutes
both youngsters had fallen sound asleep. The man who can sleep
as they did, when the head touches the pillow, has many successes
still ahead of him!

Nor did they worry about not waking in season in the morning.
Slim Morris had promised to see to it that they were awake on time.

Slam! Bump! Tom Reade was positive he had not been asleep more
than a minute when that rude interruption came. He awoke to find
himself scrambling up from the ground.

Tom had his eyes open in time to see Harry Hazelton hit the ground
with force. Then Slim Morris retreated to the doorway of the tent.

"Are you fellows going to sleep until pay days" Slim demanded jovially.

Tom hustled into his clothes, reached the doorway of the tent
and found the sun already well up in the skies.

"The boys are sitting down to breakfast," called Slim over his
shoulder. "Want any?"

"_Do_ I want any?" mocked Tom. He had laid out his khaki clothing