Dolph was undeniably tired enough to welcome the chance for some hours’ sleep. And it seemed to him that his head had hardly hit the pillow, which consisted of a bag filled with the same kind of stuff that constituted their beds, hemlock browse, stripped by hand from its attendant stems, than he lost consciousness.
He was suddenly aroused by a tremendous bang; and although for the moment Dolph found himself unable to place himself, some sort of intuition caused him to feel for his gun, and crawl hastily out of the tent.
Amos had been just ahead of him, and was on his feet as Dolph appeared.
“What is it; more cats invading us?” demanded the latter, when he saw the figure of Teddy just beyond the fire, in the act of half raising his gun, as if tempted to shoot again.
The other was laughing as if there might be something of a joke.
“No cats this time,” he replied; “unless you choose to call two-legged thieves by that name.”
“Whew! did he come back, then?” gasped Dolph, as he suddenly remembered their unwelcome visitor of the earlier evening, and the suspicion they had entertained as to his thievish propensities.
“I heard a sound as of somebody or some thing creeping through the bushes,” declared Teddy, “and making as sure as I could of the direction, I let one shot go.”
“Did he yelp?” demanded Amos, grinning as he remembered the fine, dust-like shot which the owner of the repeating gun had said he meant to use.