“That’s all right. My friend is me. If you touch him, you touch me. Now, hurry up, climb down from your perch. I shall have enough trouble now, getting the general to forgive all the blunders you have made to-night, without your adding insult to injury. Tell your men to untie us, and throw the ropes back into the tent. It will soon be daylight. Hustle, and let us be off.”
“Untie them,” said the captain, with a sigh.
Yates shook himself when his arms regained their freedom.
“Now, Tim,” he said, “run into that tent and bring out my coat. It’s chilly here.”
Tim did instantly as requested, and helped Yates on with the coat.
“Good boy!” said, Yates. “You’ve evidently been porter in a hotel.”
Tim grinned.
“I think,” said Yates meditatively, “that if I you look under the right-hand bunk, Tim, you will find a jug. It belongs to the professor, although he has hidden it under my bed to divert suspicion from himself. Just fish it out and bring it here. It is not as full as it was, but there’s enough to go round, if the professor does not take more than his share.”
The gallant troop smacked their lips in anticipation, and Renmark looked astonished to see the jar brought forth. “You first, professor,” said Yates; and Tim innocently offered him the vessel. The learned man shook his head. Yates laughed, and took it himself.
“Well, here’s to you, boys,” he said. “And may you all get back as safely to New York as I will.” The jar passed down along the line, until Tim finished its contents.