READING THE SIGNS.
"Halt!"
At the command the scouts came to a stop. They had been gradually concentrating as they pushed forward, so that when this halt was made they formed half a circle, and each fellow was almost touching elbows with the next in line.
Just before them, even though pretty well concealed by the foliage of the bushes, they could make out what appeared to be a rough shack.
No other name would apply, for it was clumsily built out of odds and ends of boards, secured at the mill, no doubt, together with sods, a heap of stones, some mud that had hardened until it resembled mortar; and, finally, a roof thatched with straw, much after the style the boys had seen in pictures of foreign cottages in Switzerland, France, and Italy.
"Say," observed Red, who found it unusually hard to keep from expressing his views, "I don't believe there are any kiyi dogs around here, fellows."
"Don't seem like it," remarked another, doubtless breathing a sigh of relief at the improved prospect.
"Sure we'd have heard them give tongue," observed Toby, advancing boldly to look in through the opening at the side of the shack, and which doubtless served the purpose of a window.
"Careful, Toby; go slow," called out Elmer; for there could be no telling what sort of a storm the appearance of the boys in khaki might raise within the shanty.
An intense silence followed. Every fellow could feel his heart pounding against his ribs like a trip hammer, and he wondered whether the sound were loud enough to betray his nervous frame of mind to his companions, never dreaming that they were all in the same box.