"We wouldn't put you to that trouble, Dick," protested Tom. "You're to be our guest—-not our policeman."
"Are you going to try to keep me out of all the excitement and fun?" Lieutenant Dick demanded, indignantly. "Sleep? Can't I get enough of that when I go aboard a Pullman again and am riding out to Colorado? Of course I'm going to help—-and I'm going to have my share of all the opportunities for excitement here—-or else I'm going to cut your acquaintance."
"Why, of course we'll be delighted to have your help, Dick, if you want to stand the racket," Reade made haste to say. "It will surely seem like doubling—-or trebling—-our forces, to have Dick Prescott working hand in hand with us."
"Then that's settled," cried Dick, with an air of satisfaction.
"You haven't had any sleep lately, have you, Dick?" inquired Tom, after they had chatted a little longer.
"No; I haven't."
"Then you must turn in and get a few hours," proposed Reade. "I must have a little myself, as I shall have to be up and go into court during the coming forenoon."
"I'm wide awake now," said Harry. "So I'll sit right here on the porch and dream of Dick and Greg, and good old Dave Darrin and Danny Dalzell, and the good times we had in old Gridley. What time do you want to be up, Tom?"
"Not later than eight," Reade answered.
"Trust me," said Harry promptly. Harry went to his own bedroom, pulled his bed apart, remade it with fresh linen, and with a final grip of Dick's hand, he left the army officer to turn in there.