“Oh, yes. I was going to tell you something, wasn’t I? Well it was this.” He hesitated, until everyone was listening. Then he arose and bowed. “Teddy, my boy, if Curly could only see you now!” CHAPTER XX THE STRANGE FIRE The ground in the shady side of the chuck wagon resembled a small section of a battlefield where carnage had been complete. Tired bodies were sprawled in every imaginable attitude, some reclining with their heads on their hard saddles, imagining themselves comfortable, some with feet raised above the rest of their bodies by the simple method of bracing them against the wagon wheels, others lying face downward, arms outstretched. They had earned their ease, and Mr. Manley declared a vacation for the remainder of the day. The sun touched the horizon before anyone stirred. Then Roy sat up, stretched, and poked Teddy with his foot. The boy jumped as though he had been shot. “Only me, sweetheart,” Roy said, grinning. “Huh? Golly, you scared me! I was dreaming of that bunch of beeves and I thought I was down under ’em. What time is it?” “Don’t know. Feels like time to eat. I--” “Hey, what’s all the noise about?” Nick, rubbing his eyes sleepily, looked about him. “Convention, or something?” “Nope. Just one of Roy’s cute little jokes. He had an idea he’d slept enough, so he kicked me. Needed company, I guess.” One by one the others came to life, yawning, stretching the kinks out of their muscles. “Hey, Sing, when do we eat?” “What’s on the men-oo for supper?” “Get offa my foot, you ape! By golly, you been sleepin’ right on my laig! An’ now, by jinks, that’s asleep! If I don’t warm you up for that--” Gus, letting out frequent yelps, hopped about, trying to restore the circulation in the benumbed member. Pop, who was the cause of this commotion, grinned happily. “Don’t he dance well? Funny he only uses one leg. Come on, open up, Gus. Show yore stuff. One, two, three, four! Let’s go! I wonder if my baby does the Charleston--Charleston--” “Dry up, you old leather-backed coyote! Maybe you’d dance too if yore laig was sound asleep. Uh! There she is.” He sat down suddenly, and glared about him. “Next time you want a pillow, you use somethin’ else besides my laig.” Mr. Manley was watching the scene with an amused smile. Finally he said: “Nick, suppose you jump that chuck wagon an’ find out if Sing Lung is asleep too. If he is we’ll have to get our own chow, I reckon.” “I’ll wake him!” Nick declared, and pulled open the wagon door. “Hey, you Chink, come to! Time to get up!” “Gettee out heah! Come in my klitchen, so! Out qlick! I beat you head with this!” Sing, a skillet in one hand, peered out ferociously. “He’s awake!” Jules Kolto shouted. “Now we eat for sure. But I wouldn’t like to take Nick’s share. He’ll probably get boiled mice.” “An’ I’ll eat ’em too,” Nick said forcibly. “I’m hungry enough to go anything. Come on, Sing, show some speed.”