Under these circumstances Harrigan was lulled to sleep.
He woke at length with a consciousness, not of a light shining in his face, but of one that had just been flashed across his eyes.

Then a guarded voice said: "He's dead to the world; he won't hear nothin'." Peering cautiously up from under the shelter of his eyelashes, he made out a bulky figure leaning above him.
"Sure he's dead to the world," said a more distant voice.

"After the day he must have put in with Campbell, he won't wake up till he's dragged out.

I know!" "Lift his foot and let it drop," advised another.

"If you can do that to a man without waking him, you know he's not going to be waked up by any talkin'." Harrigan's foot was immediately raised and dropped.