E-text prepared by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
“Well, if he doesn’t beat any one I ever heardof!”
Mickey O’Rooney and Fred Munson were stretched on theApache blanket, carefully watching the eyes of the wild beastwhenever they showed themselves, and had been talking in guardedtones. The Irishman had been silent for several minutes, when thelad asked him a question and received no answer. When the thing wasrepeated several times, he crawled over to his friend, and, as heexpected, found him sound asleep.
This was not entirely involuntary upon the part of Mickey. Hehad shown himself, on more than one occasion, to be a faithfulsentinel, when serious danger threatened; but he believed thatthere was nothing to be feared on the present occasion, and, as hewas sorely in need of sleep, he concluded to indulge while theopportunity was given him.
“Sleep away, old fellow,” said Fred. “You seemto want it so bad that I won’t wake you up again.”
The boy’s curiosity having been thoroughly aroused, alltendency to slumber upon his part had departed, and he determinedthat if there was any way by which he could profit any by thatwolf, he would do it.
“He may hang around here for a day or two,” hemused, as he heard the faint tappings upon the sa