“See if you can find any water outdoors, Perk,” Jack was saying, as he contemplated the red embers of their late fire. “Seems to me I stepped in some sort of a puddle while coming up to the door. Here’s an old rusty can that looks as if it’d hold a quantity—I want to dash it on these coals so as to cool them off. That done we’ll find some way to hide, and watch developments.”
Perk sized up the situation cleverly enough, and lost no time in setting about doing as his pal suggested. When he came back he was carrying the rusty can, which did leak a trifle, but then that made no particular difference, so long as enough water remained to put the fire out.
It sizzled, and steamed a bit but Perk distributed the fluid contents of his can with such discretion that all this was speedily brought to a finish, with the last red ember cooled off, leaving a dead little pile of wood ashes as the only reminder of their blaze.
“Now that’s settled, partner,” said the always ready Perk, “what comes next on our program?”
Jack had his hand electric torch in use, for otherwise they must have been left to grope around, since the clouds continued to drift past in clusters, shutting out most of the moonlight.
“We must gather up everything here that might give us away, for like as not the fellow’ll fetch some kind of a light along with him—lantern it may turn out to be, because he knows its apt to be pretty dark inside the old shack, and he can’t do much just by fumbling around.”
“Yeah! that’s right, boss,” returned Perk, commencing to gather up any and all their scanty belongings, not forgetting that convenient rifle of his. “But I say, how ’bout the bus—won’t he lamp the thing settin’ there in the open an’ ain’t it apt to give him a bad start?”
Jack had duly considered that very point in making up his plans, and was ready to meet the situation.
“Taken it all in all, buddy, there’s small danger of that happening,” he went on to tell Perk. “First, remember, the ship lies on that side of the shack away from the spot where I glimpsed those lights and if he comes along in a direct line from the town there isn’t one chance in three of him noticing it. Even if he does I reckon he’ll feel dead certain only his own messenger’d be flying in this region—he may never have seen another crate besides the one sent out by Slippery Slim.”
“She sounds good to me, Jack an’ I’m willin’ to take a shy at the target, if so be you guess it’s straight goods, all wool’n a yard wide. Let’s go!”