During the night, Roy tossed about restlessly, and once he sat up, under the impression that some one had come upon them. He peered about him and listened intently, but could not place the sound which had awakened him. Finally, with a grunt of contempt at his own nervousness, he rolled over and closed his eyes, at once sinking into a more restful slumber, which lasted until the sun was again warming the languid world. This time, when he awoke, he sprang to his feet and threw the blanket from him quickly. There was a method in this. The insect tribes of the woods find a blanket, inhabited by a sleeping human, a cosy place to spend the night, and frequently a camper will discover a strange collection of crawling things sharing his covering. Thus, having little fondness for snakes or spiders, Roy tossed the blanket to the ground with some haste, lest the guest intrude further and stay for breakfast. He bent over the cloth to see what he had gathered, but found nothing more than a few beetles and a single, undersized scorpion. He shook himself well, tossed the blanket on a tree limb to air, and called the others. Teddy, arousing himself gradually, “to avoid sudden shock,” as he explained with a grin, walked toward the canoe. “Francois, my orange juice,” he muttered sleepily, and, reaching under the seat, pulled forth a can of beans. This was opened with the aid of a revolver barrel, and the contents were soon being heated in a pan held over the fire by two green sticks. The four made a most satisfying breakfast, and, after piling their belongings once more into the craft, set off again down the river. “Hear anything last night?” Roy, who, together with Teddy, was paddling, asked casually. “Not me,” Teddy answered forcibly, if not grammatically. “This baby slept like the well known rock. Why?” “Oh, nothing--only I thought I did. I woke up with a start, some time in the night, and sat up. But I may have been dreaming. Anyway, if it was some one sneaking around, he didn’t disturb us.” “It would have taken a cannon to wake me up,” Bug Eye declared, yawning and dipping his hand into the water. “Boy, when I sleeps, I sleeps, an’ no mistake. Who did you think it was, Roy, The Pup?” “Had no idea,” Roy answered. “I dropped off again right afterwards. Pop, do we reach the rapids to-day?” “We should,” the puncher replied. “If nothin’ happens, I expect to see Whirlpool River Ranch by night. Then the thing to do is to find those locoed steers, that Gus--er, I mean that The Pup--chased.” By common consent the subject of Gus’s disappearance had not been discussed. It was a painful subject for all of them, since they all liked the young cowboy. Each hoped sincerely that, somehow, Gus would some day return and take his place with them once more.