The Riders were tired after their long day’s ride, so all hands turned in early, and were asleep in a few moments, except the fat boy. Stacy, by frequent pinchings of himself, and chuckling over the fun he might have were his experiment to prove a success, managed to keep awake.
Giving his companions ample time to sink into a profound sleep, the fat boy crept from his blanket, moving very cautiously so as not to awaken Hippy Wingate. Once outside he took a long look at the form of Hamilton White who lay rolled in his blanket near the campfire, for the air was now chill. White was plainly asleep.
Stacy crept to Grace’s tent, then to the one occupied by Nora and Emma, pausing for a moment at each and performing some peculiar motions. It would have been difficult for anyone to even guess at what the boy might be up to.
“I’d like to give that guide fellow a dose, too,” muttered the fat boy, again pausing for a long look at White. “I reckon I’d better let well enough alone, though.”
Stacy got back to his own tent without awakening a single member of the party.
“Humph!” he muttered. “Sleepy-heads, all. Anybody could walk in here and steal them without awakening a single person. I don’t believe anything is going to happen at all. That fellow down at Cresco is a fake, and I’ll be even with him when we get back there. I’ll get my money back or—or—” Stacy Brown’s eyes closed, his mutterings became mere murmurs and then ceased altogether. He, too, was sound asleep, the biggest sleepy-head of them all.
It was several hours after that that something happened.
Emma Dean uttered a terrified scream, and Nora Wingate, suddenly awakened, screamed louder than Emma did. The two girls bounded from their beds and ran from the tent hysterically crying for help.
“Hamilton! Oh, Hamilton!” cried Emma.
The guide had sprung to his feet at the first scream. Grace and Elfreda were only a few seconds behind him.