“I’m going to make a mighty good try to sleep,” he said.
“You’ll succeed, all right,” grinned Larry. “Who’s standin’ guard?”
“My turn,” replied Tom.
The rest of the crowd, weary and worried, concluded to follow the stout boy’s example.
“Sleep well,” said the sentinel, with an effort to smile.
Rifle in hand, he walked outside and began pacing to and fro.
His watch passed in a very uneventful fashion. Sam Randall relieved him, and when Sam’s time was up he called Tom.
“Gee!” muttered the tall Rambler, rubbing his eyes. “I wish the next two hours would pass as quickly as the last.”
He took up a position by the window, and, just as watchful as though a host of enemies surrounded them, kept a keen lookout.
“I do wonder where Bob is at the present moment,” he thought. “It’s a mighty queer affair. If he doesn’t turn up pretty soon we’ll have to go on a hunt for him.”