“Speak for yourself, John Alden,” retorted the stout boy scornfully.
Thad understood that Davy wished to say something privately, and on this account he did not hesitate to get up and move over to where the other was sitting with his log book in his hand.
He saw that Davy had a puzzled expression on his face, and from this judged he had run across some sort of enigma which he wanted the patrol leader to help him solve. As Thad was accustomed to this sort of thing, he did not think it strange, though naturally feeling some curiosity concerning the matter.
“Want to see me, Davy?” he asked, as he carelessly dropped alongside the other.
“Why, we’re all here, ain’t we, Thad, the whole patrol I mean?” Davy began.
“Count noses, and you’ll find there are just eight of us, which covers the bill,” Thad told him.
“While you-all were talking there did you hear anything queer?” continued Davy.
“Not that could be noticed,” Thad told him. “There were times when the boys made so much noise that it was hard for me to hear anything besides. Did you catch any suspicious sound, Davy?”
The other immediately nodded, and went on to say, at the same time casting a quick look all around him:
“Thad, I sure did. I was sitting here writing, and paying no attention to what the fellows were squabbling about, when all at once it came, as plain as anything, and right from over yonder,” with which he pointed across the island.