"I've got a good deal of confidence in him," insisted Matt. "Everything's quiet around here, Dick," he added, "and you might as well turn in and catch your forty winks. I'll stand guard alone. If anything goes wrong—which I haven't the least idea will be the case—you'll hear this gun begin to talk and can flock to the place where you're needed."
"I guess I will do a caulk, mate, for I'm mighty dozy; but I'll only take the nap on one condition."
"What's that?"
"Why, that you go below yourself after I do my own stretch off the land. I'll wake up in time to give you a chance before sunrise."
"I'll agree," laughed Matt, "providing you wake up."
Ferral selected a spot under one of the trees and spread the canvas shelter Matt had stowed in the car for the protection of the air ship. With his coat for a pillow, and the canvas between him and the ground, he was off to the Land of Nod in record time.
From that on, Matt had a lonely and fruitless vigil. A passenger train went past on the railroad, but that was the only event that came to relieve the monotony of two hours' sentry duty.
At the end of the two hours, when, as Matt judged, it was nearly four o'clock, Ferral stirred himself and arose.
"It's my turn-to, mate," said he. "Give me the revolver and below with you."
"How did you manage to wake up?" queried Matt, as he passed over the weapon.