“And I do hope I get a bear—or deer,” murmured Bert. “If I don’t I’m going to——”
“Hark!” suddenly interrupted Tom. He sat up quickly, in a listening attitude on the couch.
“Nothing but the wind,” murmured George, as a shutter rattled.
“Hark!” ordered Tom again.
There was some sound outside. All the boys heard it plainly, and a dog they had borrowed that day from Sam, to help them in tracking any game on the trail of which they might get, sat up and growled.
“Someone is out there,” said Tom in a whisper.
“Some animal—a skunk, maybe,” suggested Bert. “I’m going to stay in. I don’t like him—not for a scent!” and he laughed at his own joke.
Tom, however, was softly getting up from the couch. He looked fixedly toward one certain window.
“Jack, turn the light out suddenly!” he ordered in a whisper. “Bert, have your gun ready.”
“Do you really think it is—anyone?” asked Bert, as he reached for his gun, which he had finished cleaning, and put together again.