“The wind rattling some of the old windows,” answered Jack. “Go on—it’s your move.”
“I’m going to move to bed,” yawned Phil. “You fellows can wake me up when it’s my turn to watch.”
“Go ahead,” assented Jack, for he and Blake had to finish the deciding game of checkers, and it was at an interesting stage just then.
It was harder to awaken Phil than they thought, when the two decided to stretch out on the old bags about twelve o’clock. Nothing had disturbed them, and as Phil, stretching and yawning, got up he remarked:
“Say, this isn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. What will one of you fellows take to stand watch for me?”
“Go on! Do your duty!” exclaimed Blake.
He and Jack made themselves as comfortable as they could on the floor, with the bags for mattresses; and they got close to the fire, for the night seemed to get colder. There was plenty of wood, however.
Probably Phil tried not to go to sleep—he said afterward that it couldn’t have been more than a minute that he dozed off, but the fact was that it was getting daylight when he awoke again.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes in surprise, and, for a moment, hardly able to remember where he was. Then he saw Jack stretching and yawning, and Blake turning over.
“Oh, what a hard bed!” complained Jack. Then something seemed to recall a matter to him, and he cried out: “Why didn’t you call me Phil, to stand my second trick; eh?”