on's words, Gerard could hear the shrill trumpet of more
than one of these nocturnal pests, winging his way aloft, to lie hidden
in some secure corner of the ceiling until quiet should once more
prevail, and he could again descend to browse upon his victims to his
heart's content and the repletion of his skin.

"Oh, that's it, is it!" cried Gerard, striking a light with alacrity.
"By Jove, I'm bitten all over!" he went on, examining his hands and
chest, and also becoming aware of the existence of several lumps upon
his head and face.

"So am I," groaned Harry. "I haven't been able to snatch a wink of
sleep this blessed night. Just look at the brutes!"

In the candlelight, some half-dozen of the tiny venomous insects could
be seen floating in the air. A good many more were on the ceiling.

"Why, hang it, I always thought they gave one mosquito curtains in
countries like this!" said Gerard, "and--why, Harry, you've got one.
How is it we didn't spot the thing before?"

"Have I? Where? What--this thing?"

"Yes, of course. Let's see what it's good for."

There was a fold of gauze netting at the head of the bedstead. This, on
further investigation, was found to be large enough to protect the head
and shoulders of the sleeper, and Gerard duly arranged it as best he
knew how for the benefit of his companion.

"There you are, old chap. Now you'll be all right--only it's rather
like shutting the stable door after the horse is stolen. I'll tuck my
head under the sheet, and dodge them that way."

He returned to his shakedown, and put out the light. He was just dozing
off, when another exclamation on the part of his companion aroused him.

"What's the row now?" he cried.

"Row? I should think there was. Just listen to that fellow next door
`sawing planks.'"

A shrill, strident, rasping snore came through the partition, which was
constructed of very thin boarding. A most exasperating snore withal,
and one calculated to drive a light sleeper to the verge of frenzy.

"Well, I'm afraid we can do nothing against that," said Gerard,
ruefully.

Nor could they. And what with the stifling heat, the mosquito bites,
and that maddening snore, our two young friends had a very bad night of
it indeed, and but little sleep fell to their lot. Harry Maitland,
fagged and disgusted, was not slow to air his grievances to the full the
next morning on meeting Wayne. But that unfeeling individual only
laughed.

"So!" he s