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MOVING PICTURE BOYS ON THE COAST

with more pleasurable thoughts than worrying about an indefinable something, the lad finally lost himself in slumber.

The camp was still. Even Hank had crawled into his little tent, after a final pipe. He did not get to sleep soon, and had either of the boys been awake they would have seen him come out several times before midnight, and stalk about, peering off into the darkness.

Then, after looking to the tether ropes of the animals, he would go back to the small shelters, throw some embers on the fire, and drop off into a doze. For the cowboy was a light sleeper, and the least sound awakened him.

"I guess there'll be nothing doing," he whispered to himself after one of these little observations. "I thought I saw some signs just about dusk, but maybe it was some slinking coyote, or a big jack rabbit. Anyhow, if—if anything does happen it won't come during darkness; that is, unless it's some of them half-breed or Mexican rustlers, and I don't believe they've been around these diggings lately. I'm going to snooze."

Soon his heavy breathing told that he slept, and several hours passed before he again awoke. If he had made one other observation, probably he would have seen that which would have aroused his suspicions, for, about an hour after