Presently we began to speak of another matter. We were sitting at the open window with no light except from that of the full moon, and Burroughs went out on to the verandah and leant over, looking about curiously.
“I suppose you think there may be something happen to-night by having us up here?” he asked as he sat down again.
“Scarcely likely, but I thought best to be prepared.”
“It’s turning-in time. I’ll keep the first watch.”
“What have you seen?” I asked.
“Nothing—except that any one could get in here easily enough.”
“Oh, I don’t think there’s any fear of that.”
“I wasn’t talking about fear of anything. But I shan’t turn in.”
“Neither shall I, yet. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Well, I reckon we don’t want to show ’em they’re expected;” and he got up and closed the window. “And we shall have plenty of other time to talk, so we’ll keep a close lip. From what you told me, this is the night they’re most likely to try some hanky-panky. I guess, too, we don’t want too fresh smoke for ’em to smell, so I’ll shake my pipe out.”