"He called it damnable," said I.
The words were scarcely out of my mouth when my ears and senses stiffened at a sound from the night without, borne to us through the open window—the hoot of an owl.
The others heard it too.
"There he is!" I whispered.
"Who?" asked Miss Belcher. But I nodded at Mr. Rogers.
"Letcher: that's his call."
Mr. Rogers glanced at the window, and grinned.
"Now here's a chance," he said softly.
"Eh?"
"He hasn't seen us. Stand close, everyone—oh, Moses, here's a game!" He seemed to be considering.