"Same case here," agreed Benson, stifling a yawn that came as though in answer to Hal's.
"I won't keep you long, gentlemen, if I am boring you," agreed their host, amiably. "Now, I'll go below first and light up. So! Now, come down and take a look. Do you find many yacht cabins more comfortable than this one?"
It was, indeed, a cozy place. Up forward stood a miniature sideboard, complete in every respect with glass and silver. In the center of the cabin was a folding table. There were locker seats and inviting looking cushions. The trim was largely of mahogany. On either side was a broad, comfortable-looking berth.
"Just get into that berth and try it, Mr. Hastings," urged the bearded one.
"I—I'm afraid to," confessed Hal, stifling another yawn.
"Afraid?"
"Very sure thing!"
"Why?"
"I'm—hah-ho-hum!" yawned Hal Hastings. "I'm afraid I'd—yow!—abuse your hospitality by going to sleep."
Jack Benson leaned against the edge of the opposite berth, feeling unaccountably drowsy.