With mind still hazy from sleep, the corporal lay quiet for a while, gazing vacantly about the cabin. But presently it occurred to him that Devreaux and the other policemen were missing. And suddenly he found himself wondering what had happened to Alison. With an abrupt movement he cast off his blanket and sat up in the bunk. Some one had taken off his boots, he discovered; otherwise he was fully clad. The boots were lying by the bunk, and he pulled them on and fastened the laces. Then he stood up, buttoned his collar, and tried absently to smooth the wrinkles out of his tunic. He was running his fingers through his tousled hair, when he was aware that a shadow had darkened the open doorway. Looking around, he saw Colonel Devreaux entering the cabin.
The superintendent caught sight of Dexter, and he knitted his brows questioningly as he strode forward. "Waked up, have you?" he demanded. "How d'you feel?"
"All right, I guess." Dexter stretched himself and yawned, and his glance strayed towards the door. "Where's Alison?"
"Outside. She went for a walk with Brunswick and Devlin."
"How long have I been asleep?"
"More than thirty-six hours. You flopped while you were talking to me, and we got you into the bunk." The colonel reached forward and his stubby fingers touched his comrade's wrist. "You seem to have come around. But for a while yesterday we thought you were in for a long spell of it. We decided to camp here until you waked up naturally."
"I was done in, I guess. Hadn't slept much lately."
"Alison has told us all about you. You seem to have seen your job through. You haven't done half badly, Corporal—" Devreaux checked himself, stared the younger man up and down, and then for an instant his hard features yielded to a smile that was like sunshine breaking against the face of a weather-scarred cliff. "After to-day," he added quietly, "I think I can safely say—Sergeant Dexter."
A dark flush mounted to Dexter's temples, and a warm glow filled his eyes. To the men who served under Colonel Devreaux, his smallest word of commendation was like an accolade of knighthood.
"I—thank you, sir," the policeman managed to stammer.