"Give me the nuggets!" murmured poor Tom, in a nightmare. "I must have the money! Ha, the biggest nugget in Alaska!" He clutched at the pillow. "Out of my way, I say! It is mine! Look, it is snowing! Where is the trail? We are lost! See the ice and snow! Lost! lost! lost!" And Tom floundered around more wildly than ever.
Sam leaped out of bed, and, catching his brother by the arm, shook him vigorously.
"Tom! Tom! wake up!" he cried. "You're asleep! Wake up! You are not in Alaska! Wake up!"
"Oh, the ice and snow! And the trail is lost! We shall die! Can nothing save—— Er—er—eh? What's the—the matter?" stammered Tom, and suddenly opened his eyes. "What are you shaking me for, Sam?" he demanded.
"You've got a nightmare, Tom, and you were shouting to beat the band!"
"Was I? Say, I—I thought I was in Alaska, right in that field of snow and ice. And I was lost! Gosh! what a scare I had!" And poor Tom fairly trembled.
"Well, go to sleep and try to forget it," said Sam, and Tom laid down again, and soon dropped off. Sam also retired once more, but he was much troubled.
"I guess it didn't do Tom any good to go to that show," he reasoned.