"No more than some, an' less than others," replied Jonathan curtly.

Nothing more was said for a time. To the brothers this hour of early
dusk brought the same fullness of peace. From gray twilight to gloomy
dusk quiet reigned. The insects of night chirped and chorused with
low, incessant hum. From out the darkness came the peeping of frogs.

Suddenly the borderman straightened up, and, removing the pipe from
his mouth, turned his ear to the faint breeze, while at the same time
one hand closed on the colonel's knee with a warning clutch.

Colonel Zane knew what that clutch signified. Some faint noise, too
low for ordinary ears, had roused the borderman. The colonel listened,
but heard nothing save the familiar evening sounds.

"Jack, what'd you hear?" he whispered.

"Somethin' back of the barn," replied Jonathan, slipping noiselessly
off the steps, lying at full length with his ear close to the ground.
"Where's the dog?" he asked.

"Chief must have gone with Sam. The old nigger sometimes goes at this
hour to see his daughter."

Jonathan lay on the grass several moments; then suddenly he arose much
as a bent sapling springs to place.

"I hear footsteps. Get the rifles," he said in a fierce whisper.