"Aren't you coming?" asked Ned.
I'm going to bunk here in the shed to-night, said the young inventor.
"What for?"
"I can't take any chances now that the RED CLOUD is in shape for flying. Some of the Foger crowd might be hanging around, and break in here to damage her."
"But the watchman will be on guard," suggested Ned, for since the hiring of the shed, the young inventor had engaged a man to remain on duty all night.
"I know," answered Tom Swift, "but I'm not going to take any chances. I'll stay here with the watchman."
Ned offered to share the vigil with his chum, and, after some objection Tom consented. The others went back to the hotel, promising to return early in the morning.
Tom slept heavily that night, much heavier than he was in the habit of doing. So did Ned, and their deep breathing as they lay in their staterooms, in the cabin of the airship, told of physical weariness, for they had worked hard to re-assemble the RED CLOUD.
The watchman was seated in a chair just inside the big door of the shed, near a small stove in which was a fire to take off the chill of the big place. The guard had slept all day, and there was no excuse for him nodding in the way that he did.
"Queer, how drowsy I feel," he murmured several times. "It's only a little after midnight, too," he added, looking at his watch, "Guess I'll walk around a bit to rouse myself."