A soft, southerly wind blew in from the Gulf. As long as he could Reade fought drowsiness. Again and again he opened his eyes with a start.
"I mustn't do this," Tom told himself angrily. "No gentleman will go to sleep at the switch—-when it's his train that is coming!"
Yet still he found himself nodding. Had he deemed it safe Tom would have sprung up and walked about briskly. But this, he knew, was to invite being discovered by the returning negro.
So, at last, despite himself, Tom fell asleep.
How much time had passed he never knew. At last, however, he awoke with a start. Reproachfully he rubbed his eyes.
"Not a bit too soon!" he muttered, as his ears caught sound of an approaching step, and his eyes showed him the hulking form of the massive foe. "Here comes my black man!"
CHAPTER XIV
THE BLACK MAN'S TURN
Closer to the earth Tom tried to burrow. As to a plan, Tom Reade had none now, save to watch, and, if possible, to learn something that he did not already know.
Soft-footed, despite his great bulk, the negro approached with an air of little concern. Plainly, the wretch did not much fear discovery—-still less interference.