, but seems if I'd never catch another
wink. I wonder what became of Wunny! Last I saw him he was lyin' flat
on the ground--thinkin' he was et up, I guess. Dolly--My heart! Dolly
Doodles is asleep a'ready. Did you ever see such a sleepy head, Nell?"

There was no answer from the room across the hall, so Alfy curled down
among her pillows and composed herself to sleep. But her mind wasn't at
rest. She kept seeing, in her fancy, the prostrate figure of Wun Sing,
and hoped some of the men from the Barracks had looked after him. She
felt as if she must get up again and go to see for herself. But--out of
doors at night didn't seem quite the same, even to this sensible girl,
as it had done before the bear scare. Besides--something really was the
matter with her eyes. They felt as if they were full of sand--she'd just
shut them a minute to--

She was asleep at once. A body simply could not stay awake after
bedtime, in that Colorado air! And it was well she could not. Else, the
warm-hearted girl would have suffered fresh alarm.

It was a belated household which struggled out of heavy slumber the next
day, and as Dorothy lazily yawned and stretched her arms above her head
it seemed as if all the exciting events of the night must be part of her
dreams. Alfy woke, too, as reluctantly as her mate and just as Helena
appeared from her own room, looking a little heavy-eyed but fully
dressed. She bade them good morning, but waited for no response before
she added:

"The house seems unusually still, and I don't smell coffee. I generally
do, the first thing. I sometimes think it's the odor of that wakes me. I
wonder if Wun Sing's fright and his worry about his poor hen has made
him ill! I'll go and see; and if the boys aren't up I'll call them."

The lads answered sleepily to Helena's summons, yet were not long in
appearing on the porch, where the other girls promptly joined them. As
if by common consent nobody mentioned the escapade of the night, though
it was in the minds of all and all were really longing to discuss it.
The boys because they wished to "explain," and the girls thinking that
to treat the "joke" with silent contempt would be their severest
punishment. Nobody even mentioned unlucky Mateo, who had lent himself to
the furtherance of the affair, only to be the one to suffer most from
it.

"Hmm. Isn't it past breakfast time?" asked Monty, at last.

Herbert looked at his watch, and exclaimed:

"Ten minutes to nine! Wh