enemy. He was still hopeful that he would see the long, thin
figure coming among the bushes, and then hear the old pleasant
drawl. But he did not see the figure, nor did he hear the drawl.

Time passed with the usual slow step when one watches. Paul,
Sol, and Tom were asleep, but Henry was never wider awake in his
life. He tried to put away the feeling of mystery and danger.
He assured himself that Long Jim would soon come, delayed by some
trail that he had sought to solve. Nothing could have happened
to a man so brave and skillful. His nerves must be growing weak
when he allowed himself to be troubled so much by a delayed
return.

But the new hours came, one by one, and Long Jim came with none
of them. The night remained fairly light, with a good moon, but
the light that it threw over the forest was gray and uncanny.
Henry's feeling of mystery and danger deepened. Once he thought
he heard a rustling in the thicket and, finger on the trigger of
his rifle, he stole among the bushes to discover what caused it.
He found nothing and, returning to his lonely watch, saw that
Paul, Sol, and Tom were still sleeping soundly. But Henry was
annoyed greatly by the noise, and yet more by his failure to
trace its origin. After an hour's watching he looked a second
time. The result was once more in vain, and he resumed his seat
upon the leaves, with his back reclining against an oak. Here,
despite the fact that the night was growing darker, nothing
within range of a rifle shot could escape his eyes.

Nothing stirred. The noise did not come a second time from the
thicket. The very silence was oppressive. There was no wind,