The High School Boys in Summer Camp Part 10

"To get our fill of sleep," yawned Tom.

"To eat," suggested Hazelton hopefully.

"To fish," added Dave Darrin promptly.

"Just to lie down and take things easy," declared Danny Grin.

"As for me," piped up Greg Holmes, "I'm not going to bother my head, to-night, as to why we came here. I'm going to get a ten hour nap, and in the morning I'll try to solve the riddle for you, d.i.c.k, of why we came here."

A tired lot of boys, not really ready, as yet, to admit that they were used up, lay down on their cots without undressing. They intended, later, to get into their pajamas.

A single lantern, its wick turned low, hung from one of the posts.

Prescott did not trust himself to lie down, for his eyes, despite his efforts to keep awake, were heavy, and he did not want to sleep for some time yet.

Within ten minutes Darrin alone had his eyes open, and even he was making a valiant struggle against sleep. At last, however, he yielded, and soon settled into sound slumber.

"They're off in another world," smiled d.i.c.k, as he listened to the deep breathing of his chums; then he slipped away from his cot.

From under a box in one corner of the tent he took out a large cup of coffee that he had hidden some time earlier. It was still warm and he drank it with relish, though his main purpose in using the beverage was to make sure of keeping himself awake.

His next move was to extinguish the lantern. Now he made his way to the bucket of water and basin. Dashing the cold water into his face, and wetting his eyes well with it, Prescott took a few deep breaths. He now felt equal to keeping awake for some time.

Outside, by this time, all was darkness, save where a few embers of the recent camp fire glowed dully.

d.i.c.k threw himself down, resting his head on his elbows, in the doorway of the tent.

"Now, don't you dare go to sleep!" he ordered himself, repeating the command frequently as a means of aiding himself to keep his eyelids from closing.

"You keep awake!" he half snorted, as he felt drowsiness getting nearer. He pinched himself, inflicting more than a little pain.

At last, however, the young leader of d.i.c.k & Co. found that his drowsiness had pa.s.sed for the time being, like the sentinel in war time.

"Now, I think I can keep awake until daylight, if I have to,"

muttered young Prescott to himself. "At daylight it won't be so very mean to wake one of the other fellows and let him take my place."

Yet, after an hour had pa.s.sed, d.i.c.k was almost doomed to discover that nature had some rights and knew how to a.s.sert them.

His eyes had just closed when he awoke with a start.

Someone was treading lightly past the wall of the tent, coming toward the door. d.i.c.k had barely time to glide back behind the flap of the tent when the unknown someone stopped at the doorway.

It was too dark to make out anything distinctly under the canvas, but the stranger listened to the combined snorings of five of the six boys, then chuckled softly.

"Oh! Funny, is it, to think that we're all asleep, and that you may help yourself at will to the food that cost us so much money!"

thought d.i.c.k wrathfully. The stranger hearing no sound from the apparently sleeping camp soon pa.s.sed on in the direction of the fire.

Here much of the provisions had been stacked in the packing case cupboards, for the reason that to store food in the tent would seriously curtail the s.p.a.ce that the boys wanted for comfort.

Out of the tent crept d.i.c.k, crouching. His heart was beating a trifle faster than usual, perhaps, for he saw at once that the prowler was larger than himself.

Before one of the box cupboards the prowler halted and rummaged inside with his hands.

"I guess this is where I need a light," mused the stranger, half aloud.

"Pardon me, but what do you want with a light?" inquired Prescott, at the same time pushing the stranger forward on his face. d.i.c.k now seated himself on the other's shoulders.

"Don't make a fuss," Prescott advised. "I like to think myself a gentleman, and I don't want to muss you up too much."

The stranger laughed. It was an easy, confident laugh that destroyed a bit of the Gridley boy's sense of mastery.

"What are you doing, up at this time of night?" asked the stranger.

"Minding my own business, in my own camp," d.i.c.k replied easily.

"And what are you doing here? Whose business are you minding?"

"My own, too, I reckon," replied the prowler more gruffly.

"In other words, attending to your hunger?" pressed Prescott.

"I'm looking out that I don't have too much hunger to-morrow,"

came the now half sullen answer.

"Is this the way you usually get your food?" d.i.c.k demanded dryly.

"This is the way I get most of it," came the reply.

"Stealing it, eh?"

"Well, what of it?" came the sulky retort. "The world owes me a living."

"To be sure it does," d.i.c.k answered blithely. "The world owes every man a living. That's just why you don't need to steal.

Just sail in and collect that living by means of hard work.

Are you the chap who collected our steaks this evening?"

"None of your business. And, now, if you've given me as much chatter as you want, get off my shoulders!"

"I've a little more to say to you yet," d.i.c.k responded.

"Get off my shoulders!"

"I will---when I'm through with you," d.i.c.k agreed.

"You'll get off at once, or I'll roll you off!" came the now angry threat.

"Try it," d.i.c.k urged coolly.

Right then and there the stranger did try it. He "heaved," then attempted to roll and grapple with the young camper. He would have succeeded, too, had Prescott relied upon his strength alone.

But d.i.c.k employed both hands in getting a neck-hold that hurt.