“How is it?” wheezed Bluff, looking up, red in the face.
“Do I win?” gasped Jerry, too exhausted to do more than roll over.
“Gentlemen, it has been a remarkable contest all around. I am forced to call it a draw for to-night, as you both came under the wire at the same time. It is simply wonderful!” announced the judge, gravely.
Will mutely held up his hands, but whether to express his admiration for the capacity of the contestants’ lungs or for the astonishing ingenuity of Frank, could not be told. He knew that they would never have any trouble about getting those two air mattresses filled each night, for the eager rivals could hardly wait for turning-in time to come, so anxious were they for a new trial of lung capacity.
Frank had not camped in Maine for nothing. He afterwards admitted in secret to Will that he had witnessed a similar trick being played upon a couple of guides, and had never forgotten it.
“Just you wait until to-morrow night, and I’ll show you,” grunted Jerry, as he rolled over to woo the goddess of slumber.
“Then you’ll have to go a notch better than you did just now, that’s what,” was the pugnacious reply of his rival.
“How does it go, Jerry?” asked Will, whose watch came first, and who was handling Frank’s gun a bit nervously, for he was a poor shot.
“Fine. Frank, you deserve the united thanks of the club for thinking of such things as these. Talk to me about your bed of hemlock browse, it’s all good enough to read about, but this is solid comfort!” said Jerry.
“That settles it. They must be great when such a simple-minded sportsman as you would praise them. Here goes, fellows,” and Frank lay down.