Prompt as a rifle in answer to the trigger, he threw himself down
on all fours, and laid his ear to the ground. A second later, he
was on his feet again.

"Guard!" he yelled. "Turn out!"

Cots squeaked and jumped, and there came a rush of hurrying feet.
The eight men not on watch ran out in single file, still buttoning
their uniforms, and lined up beside the two who watched the
guardroom door.

"Stand easy!" commanded Brown. Then he marched off to the crossroads,
finding his way in the blackness more by instinct and sense of direction
than from any landmark, for even the road beneath his feet was barely
visible.

"D'you mean to tell me that neither of you men can hear that sound?"
he asked the sentries.

Both men listened intently, and presently one of them made out a very
faint and distant noise, that did not seem to blend in with the other
night-sounds.

"Might be a native drum?" he hazarded.

"No, 'tain't!" said the other. "I got it now. It's a horse galloping.
Tired horse, by the sound of him, and coming this way. All right,
Sergeant."