"Of course," Tom admitted with a wink.
"It's a shame to tease the youngster so."
"It would be," Tom assented rather gravely, "but I'm using that
means to make the lad afraid to smoke cigarettes. If young Drew
goes on smoking the miserable little things he'll become come a
physical wreck inside of a year."
"How do you do the trick, anyway?" asked Harry curiously.
"Does it really sound like the click of a rattler?" asked Tom.
"Does it? I was 'stung' almost as badly as poor Alf was. How
do you do the trick?"
"I'll show you, some time," nodded Tom Reade.
With that promise Harry had to be content, and so must the reader,
for the present.
Hazelton went out to stand first watch with Joe Timmins. Alf
Drew, finding that the Dunlop party had no room for him under
the shelter they had rigged from the rear of the automobile, curled
himself on the ground under a tree and fitfully wooed sleep.
By daylight the little fellow was fretfully awake, his "nerves"
refusing him further rest until he had rolled and smoked two cigarettes.
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