Beth, Patsy and Myrtle retired early, as did Uncle John. The Major, smoking his "bedtime cigar," as he called it, strolled out into the yard and saw Wampus seated in the automobile, also smoking.
"We get an early start to-morrow, Wampus," said the Major. "Better get to bed."
"Here is my bed," returned the chauffeur, quietly.
"But there's a room reserved for you in the hotel."
"I know. Don't want him. I sleep me here."
The Major looked at him reflectively.
"Ever been in this town before, Wampus?" he asked.
"No, sir. But I been in other towns like him, an' know this kind of hotel. Then why do I sleep in front seat of motor car?"
"Because you are foolish, I suppose, being born that way and unable to escape your heritage. For my part, I shall sleep in a bed; like a Christian," said the Major rather testily.
"Even Christian cannot sleep sometime," returned Wampus, leaning back in his seat and puffing a cloud of smoke into the clear night air. "For me, I am good Christian; but I am not martyr."