Regardless of the noise consequent upon so many people being crowded into such small quarters, Benny slept as only a tired boy can, until the cook aroused him by building the fire next morning in order to cook breakfast.
“Of course I’m all right,” he said in reply to the question as to his condition; “but I must have been terrible sleepy last night, for I’ve let Fluff wear his collar and medal all night.”
“That won’t do any harm, and, besides, he’s bound to keep his ornaments on till our visitors leave. I reckon we’ll soon have the station to ourselves, an’ I for one won’t be sorry. This sleepin’ on the kitchen floor with not so much as a blanket to ease up on the boards, ain’t particularly pleasant, accordin’ to the way I look at it.”
“I could have slept on a rock last night, I was so tired,” Benny replied, with a cheerful laugh as he began his toilet, promising Fluff that he should have his hair combed before the ladies appeared. “How are they going away?”
“It was settled last night, over the telephone, that if the wind died down, a tug would be out here about eight o’clock, and it’s so calm now that there won’t be any trouble in putting them aboard.”
“I wonder if the steamer was stove to pieces?”
“Joe Cushing was the last man in, and he reported that she was then in fair condition for hauling off. The wrecking crews will soon be at work, and if the weather holds good it may be possible to save her.”
“Will our crew be called upon?”
“Not a bit of it. All that is done by contract, and those who take the job have no right to ask for the services of the life-saving men. Why don’t you take a spin out there, an’ see how she looks?”
“I guess it’ll be more to my credit if I stay here pretty close while there’s so much work to be done,” Benny replied with a laugh, and then, his own toilet having been made, he set about combing Fluff, an operation which was never greatly enjoyed by the dog.