As
soundlessly as he had pushed himself up the moment before, he now
slipped down in the blankets and resigned himself to sleep.
He knew that he would wake at the first hint of grey light and trusted
that after the long ride of the day before his companion would still be
fast asleep. That half light would be enough for his work; but when he
roused while the room was still scarcely more visible than if it were
filled with a grey fog, he found Bard already up and pulling on his
boots.
"How'd you sleep?" he growled, following the example of the tenderfoot.
"Not very well," said the other cheerily. "You see, that story of yours
was so vivid in my mind that I stayed awake about all night, I guess,
thinking it over."
"I knew it," murmured Nash to himself. "He was awake all the time. And
still-----"
If that thrown noose of the lariat had settled over the head and
shoulders of the sham sleeper it would have made no difference whether
he waked or slept--in the end he would have sat before William Drew tied
hand and foot. If that noose had not settled? The picture of the little
piece of paper fluttering to the floor came back with a strange
vividness to the mind of Nash, and he had to shrug his shoulders to
shake the thought away.
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