be the first night that I've slept on hard ground and rested well."

"All right, Alf, climb in," nodded Tom. "But see here. Cigarettes
make you as nervous as a lunatic. If you have any bad dreams
tonight, and begin yelling, then I'll rise and throw you outdoors.
Do you understand?"

"Yes," mumbled the boy. "But I won't dream. I'm not nervous
now. It's only when I can't get enough cigs that I'm nervous."

"You should have seen him this afternoon," Tom continued, turning
to his chum. "The lad and I took a walk. At every other step
he kept imagining that he heard rattlesnakes rattling."

"And I did, too," contended Alf stoutly. "You know I did. You
heard 'em yourself, Mr. Reade."

"I didn't hear a single rattler," Tom replied soberly.

"Let the tired little fellow go to bed in peace," urged Harry.

"All right," Tom agreed.

Alf went to the head of the cot, to turn the blanket down from
the head.

Click-ick-ick-ick! came the warning sound.

With a yell of terror Alf Drew bounded back.