"Perhaps you don't believe I saw anything at the window," replied
Will, somewhat indignantly.
"Oh, I don't doubt that you think you saw something at the window."
Will seized a searchlight, grabbed Tommy by the shoulder, and pulled him out of the door and around to the north side of the cabin.
The boys were not dressed especially for a midnight excursion in the snow, and their teeth chattered as they made their way against the chilling wind. However, they stuck to their purpose and soon stood under the window which Will had pointed out."
"There!" the boy exclaimed in a triumphant tone. "Now perhaps you'll tell me I didn't see anything through the glass."
A light snow had fallen during the late hours of the night, and there, plainly revealed on the undisturbed surface—undisturbed only for what they saw—were clearly outlined the footprints of two people.
One had worn moccasins, the other such shoes as might have been purchased at any department store in Chicago.
"And the tenant came back!" grinned Tommy.
"Then why didn't he come in?" demanded Will.
"Because he's scared of us!"