"Practice, I guess. If a fellow fixes it in his mind that he's going to wake up at a certain time, he can usually do it. Anyhow, that's the case with me. But ease off on your jaw tackle, matey. You're wasting valuable time. We've been through a lot of excitement and you must be tired. Harris and Carl will probably be here before you have the chance to get as much of a snooze as I had."
Matt walked over to the improvised bed under the tree and dropped down. He was hardly flat on his back before he was sound asleep; and it didn't seem to him that he had more than closed his eyes before a yell from Ferral brought him to his feet.
But some time had passed since Matt had laid down. The sun had risen, and it was broad day. There was the roar of an approaching train in Matt's ears, and Ferral was pointing excitedly toward the cars and shouting:
"Look there, mate! What do you think of that? Brady, or I'm a Fiji!"
[CHAPTER X.]
BRADY RETURNS—WITH HOT NEWS.
"That's right! Blamed if it ain't Brady!"
This from Graydon, who had also been aroused by Ferral's alarm. Crowding close to the two boys, the officer stood gazing with them toward the train.
It was a freight train and was coming from Chicago. Just opposite the old quarry there was a stiff up-grade, and the freight had slackened speed.