He spoke wearily.

"You're not going to sit down, Bob," Van retorted sharply. "Brace
up. You've got to keep moving."

"But I can't. I'm tired and--and--sleepy."

His voice trailed off into a yawn.

"I don't care." Van wheeled on his friend fiercely and striding up
to him shook him violently by the shoulders. "Now pull yourself
together!" he commanded. "Where's your nerve? Brace up or I'll
rattle the daylights out of you."

"I can't go another step."

"You've got to. Start on ahead. Don't crawl that way--walk! Faster!
Faster than that, do you hear? I'm just behind you, and I shall step
on your heels if you lag. Keep it up. Go on."

Panting, Bob obeyed.

Suddenly he gave a cry.

"What's the matter?" demanded Van.

"There! There on the tree!" He pointed before him with trembling
hand. "Your sweater!"

Van pushed past him.