"Yes, I'll take it back," cried Ham. "Sleepy can go when he gets started, but O my! what a lot it takes to start him! I don't believe he ever moved so fast before, do you? Mr. Dean, you're a wonder on the growling stunt—I felt kind of queer myself once or twice." Fat was too far gone to express himself, but stood leaning against the rock, half-choked with laughter. He had been behind the rock all the time, and had heard all that Sleepy said.
"I was dead sure I heard him laughing," said Phil, "and I thought he had caught on to the game." "So did I," said Mr. Dean. "I certainly did hear some one laugh."
"It must have been Fat trying to choke down his amusement," dryly added
Chuck. "He couldn't keep from laughing at a funny thing on a bet."
"I am sure of one thing," said Mr. Allen, "and that is that hereafter Sleepy will do his part. I believe he has learned a lesson. You will have a hard time, though, to ever persuade him that he didn't see an animal."
"Just let him think he did see it," suggested Phil, "and we'll tell him it serves him right. If he hadn't been so dead anxious to get the easy job, like he is with everything, he would never have gotten into the mess to-night."
"Yes, that's it," added Ham; "we must be as solemn as we can and say to him that we didn't see or hear a bear, lion, or any other animal; then add, that if he had just been with us on the job, climbing up canyons, hunting birds, and doing his share, instead of just loafing, he wouldn't have gotten scared. But, rats! he must know that we have played a joke on him."
They finally agreed on a plan, then started back to camp. Ham was to do the talking. As they entered the cabin they found Sleepy sitting on a block of wood, looking meditatively into the fire.
"Well, you're a dandy," commenced Ham. "We heard you hollering 'Help' and 'Murder.' We came tearing through the trees to where we left you, and you were gone. Please explain. Who did you think was going to catch those birds? You got tired working so hard, I suppose? Come, now, was there too much real work in it?"
Then Fat began in his most disgusted tone: "You might make sure if there was any real work to be done, Sleepy would get out of it someway. He always does. Work isn't in his vocabulary."
"Go easy," said Mr. Allen in a quiet tone. "Sleepy has made lots of mistakes, and he hasn't begun to do his share of the work here yet, but he's going to do different from now on, I'm sure. Why did you leave your post, Sleepy?" He came forward and laid his hand on Sleepy's shoulder. Sleepy shaded his face with his hand, for the tears were trickling down his cheeks, and he spoke with real effort.