"Is he one of them ?" "He may be for all we know about him," answered Elfreda, shrugging her shoulders.
Grace said "no." "It doesn't seem probable, that, were he one of them, he would have shot one of them in our defense, does it ?" she asked.
The Overlanders admitted the force of her argument.

Supper finished, they sat about the campfire, now a glowing bed of coals, which now and then was fed and stirred into little ribbons of flame by adding bits of dry twigs.
"I am going to sit up to-night, and watch the camp," announced Hippy after the tents had been pitched and the girls, one by one, had begun to do their hair for the night.
"Yes, it will be wise.

When you get sleepy, call me and I will take the watch for the rest of the night," directed Grace.
"I never sleep," remonstrated Hippy.
"He never sleeps," mimicked Emma in a deep voice from her tent, sending her companions into a shout of laughter.
"Except when he is supposed to be awake," teased Anne.
Before turning in, Grace made a circuit of the camp and the bushes and the trees surrounding it, halting where the ponies were tethered to see that they were properly tied for the night.

Soon after making camp she had taken possession of Washington's harmonica, for it was all-important that attention be not attracted to their camp that night.
Grace was certain that they had not yet heard the last of their mountain enemies and that trouble might be looked for from that direction, hence no precaution must be overlooked with regard to protecting themselves.
"Tom was right," murmured Grace, when, after giving Washington and Hippy final directions, she had retired to her tent and lain down with rifle and revolver within easy reach.
Lieutenant Wingate put out the fire and sat down to watch, rifle in hand.

Grace got up an hour later and, peering from her tent, saw Hippy sitting with his back against a rock.