d split open."

"Let me feel of it," said Fletcher.

"It doesn't feel hot; it doesn't throb," he said.

"It aches terribly," said Peabody. "I'm very subject to headache. It is
the effect of a delicate constitution."

"The fellow is shamming," said Fletcher to himself; and he felt disgust
rather than sympathy.

"It's a little curious, Mr. Peabody, that this headache should not come
upon you till the day you are to stand on watch," remarked the leader,
with a sarcasm which even the young man from Boston detected.

"Yes, it's strange," he admitted, "and very unlucky, for of course you
won't expect a sick man to watch."

"You don't look at it in the right light, Mr. Peabody. I regard it as
rather lucky than otherwise."

Lawrence Peabody stared.

"I don't understand you, Mr. Fletcher," he said.

"If you have the headache, it will prevent you from going to sleep, and
you remember you expressed yourself as afraid that you might. If you
were quite well, I might feel rather afraid of leaving the camp in your
charge. Now, I am sure you won't fall asleep."

Mr. Peabody listened in dismay. The very plan to which he had resorted
in the hope of evading duty was likely to fasten that duty upon him.

"He'll be well before night," thought Fletcher shrewdly; and he
privately imparted the joke to the rest of the party. The result was
that Mr. Peabody became an object of general attention.

In half an hour the young man from Boston removed his handkerchief from
his head.

"Are you feeling better, Mr. Peabody?" asked Tom.

"Very much better," said Peabody.

"Your headache seems to pass off suddenly."

"Yes, it always does," said the young Bostonian. "I am like mother in
that. She had a delicate constitution, just like mine. One minute she
would have a headache as if her head would split open, and half an hour
afterward she would feel as well as usual."

"You are very fortunate. I was afraid your headache would make it
uncomfortable for you to watch to-night."

"Yes, it would; but, as the captain said, it would have kept me awake.
Now I don't believe I can keep from sleeping on my post."

"Why don't you tell Fletcher so?"

"Won't you tell him, Tom? He might pay more attention to it if you told
him."

"No, Mr. Peabody. You are certainly the most suitable person to speak to
him. What makes you think he would pay more attention to me, who am only
a boy?"

"He seems to like you, Tom."

"I hope he does, but really,