“Yes, he’s asleep fast enough,” Myles heard him say.
“Let’s take a look at him,” said one of the men.
Again Myles was obliged to feign sleep while his face was closely examined by the new-comers. It was a trying moment, but he succeeded in acting his part so well as to convince them that he was really asleep.
He was greatly relieved when they left the room, and still more so when he heard one of them say:
“No, he don’t belong to these parts; but, whoever he is, he sleeps like a log. You must have given him a dose of your sleeping-drops, Bill.”
“Not much I didn’t,” answered Bill, in whose voice Myles recognized that of his host. “He didn’t ask for it, and you can bet I wasn’t fool enough to offer it.”
“Well, whether you did or not, you want to offer it to us, and about two gallons of it too. The boys have got a big job on hand, and will need bracing up before they’ve done with it.”
“What is it?” asked Bill.
“Sh! Not so loud,” answered one of the men.
Then a long conversation followed, but at first it was carried on in such low tones that Myles only caught a word of it now and then. A clinking of glasses explained why it gradually grew louder, until at last every word came plainly to the ears of the young reporter. The first thing that he heard distinctly was: