He and Andy had planned not to talk while on duty. If they found it
necessary to say anything at all, which was hardly likely, the
communication would be in the lowest whisper.

Bobolink was not greedy, but he really hoped that if any sort of
trouble did come it would come along while he and Andy were holding the
post of guards. He had a little fear that Spider Sexton might not be
depended on, no matter what his good intentions, while Tom Betts was an
unknown quantity.

In case Andy happened to be sitting in one boat, while Bobolink was
occupying the other, they had fixed it up so that by taking a lead
pencil, the "commander" could give a few little light taps on the side of
the craft, using his knowledge of the Morse code to send the message, and
in this way ask whether his assistant were wide awake, and on the job,
when Andy would send back a reply along the same order; for he aspired to
be a signal man of the troop, and was daily practicing with the wigwag
flags, as well as smoke and fire signals.

The town clock boomed out the hour of ten.

Bobolink had himself begun to feel rather sleepy, and more to arouse his
dormant faculties than anything else, he sent a message along the wooden
telegraph line. The reply was a bit slow in coming, which made him think
Andy might also be inclined to fall into a doze.

So Bobolink decided that he must bestir himself, and give the signal more
frequently. He would not have this, his first important commission, turn
out poorly, for a good deal. Perhaps his whole future usefulness as a