individual peculiarities.

Chunky, growing sleepy, had crawled to the rear of the tent, where
he sat leaning against the closed flap, nodding drowsily.

Finally they saw him straighten up and brush a hand over the back of
his head.

"He's dreaming," laughed Ned. "Imagines he's rolling down the river
bank again."

Suddenly they were aroused by the fat boy's voice raised in angry
protest.

"Stop tickling my neck," he growled, vigorously rubbing that part of
his anatomy. "Funny, you fellows can't let me alone."

"You must be having bad dreams," laughed Ned. "We are not bothering
you. We're all over here."

"Yes, you are. You've done it three times and you woke me up,"
answered the fat boy, settling back and closing his eyes preparatory
to renewing his disturbed nap.

He was asleep in a moment, not having heeded the laughter of his
companions, nor their noisy comments.

But Stacy dozed for a moment only. He sat up quickly and very
straight, while a shrewd expression appeared in his eyes. Had they
been looking they might have observed one of his hands being drawn