Seller and his crowd were capable of many kinds of mischief, but surely they would never dare commit arson. Why, it was a penitentiary offense.
Sleepy as he was Bones had little difficulty in convincing himself that it was all folly to waste time in remaining awake. Three separate times he made a brave effort to resume his duties, but on each occasion his will power grew weaker. And at last his head fell over on his shoulder, while his deep breathing told that he had been conquered by the drowsy little god.
The sudden rattle and whirr of the alarm clock aroused Buster. He instantly sat up, and saw his fellow guard soundly sleeping close beside him.
But Buster had no time to investigate further. He realized that there was a window open and a cool current of air blowing in on him.
"Here, you, what do you mean going to sleep on duty. Wake up! wake up!" he exclaimed, starting to gain his feet, for it seemed to him that something mighty like smoke had been carried to his nostrils.
Before he had fully risen he heard a rushing sound, and some moving body came in collision with him, almost throwing him over again.
"Wow!" shouted Buster, as he made a desperate effort to snatch up the club which he had kept at his side as he slept.
