"And who'll ride first night gyard?" asked Broncho.
"You two both look pretty fagged out. Suppose you jump below and turn in; Tari and I will keep the middle watch."
"I ain't tired—I'm as frisky as can be," objected Jim. "I might as well take the first trick now I'm at the wheel."
"And I'm as full of buck as a corn-fed cow-pony," put in Broncho. "You're lookin' some weary an' overplayed yourself, Jack; just you prowl down in your blankets whilst Jim and I deal the game."
"I think we'd better elect a captain first," said the rover casually, "or it'll be a case of too many cooks."
"Bein' as you savvys the game, Jack, I concloods you-alls is elected onanimous; thar shore ain't no candidate for the opposition. You're the range-boss o' this round-up."
"Why, 'er course," affirmed Jim.
"Well, then, you two obey orders and turn in until further notice," returned Jack, with a laugh.
"You guileful ole terrapin!" growled Broncho, as he reluctantly made for the companion-way, followed by the boy.