“Up the lake shore. We missed you and hurried out to find you. You were just going to run into the lake when I grabbed you.”
“Was he really walking in his sleep?” asked Sam.
“Yes, unless he was shamming,” answered his elder brother.
“I wasn’t shamming,” stammered poor Tom. “I—er—I was dreaming about a ball game, and I was—er—trying to make a home run! Say, this is punky, isn’t it?” he added, staring at the crowd, blankly.
“It’s a good thing Dick came up in time,” said Sam. “Supposing you had run into the lake.”
“Oh, I guess the bath would have woke him up,” said Dick. “But I am mighty glad I stopped him,” he added.
“You’re not more glad than I am,” said Tom. “I guess I ate too much supper. I couldn’t sleep at all at first.”
“I guess you had better chain yourself fast in the tent after this,” remarked Fred. “Dick, it was lucky you woke up.”
“Something pressed me on the ankle. It’s a little sore yet. I guess Tom stepped on it when he left the tent—but I didn’t wake up fast enough to catch him then.”
All walked back to the tent and sat down around the campfire to talk the matter over. But nothing new was learned and presently they retired again; and this time all slept soundly until morning.