"Now she is coming!"
Elmer whispered this to himself as he saw that the woman no longer occupied the opening—she had undoubtedly started for the door.
Yes, now he could see the closed door begin to quiver, as though eager hands had started to open it.
Elmer held his breath with eagerness, and all the while watched the door.
Between his strong teeth the scout master held a little German silver whistle, such as patrol leaders usually carry for signaling purposes.
This he expected to sound when the time was ripe, and he had every reason to believe that his two comrades would rush into the shack the very instant they heard the call.
Now the door was surely opening wider. Even in her hurry the Italian woman did not forget the need of due caution when all these enemies seemed to be hanging around.
Her experiences across the ocean may have made her exceedingly ill disposed to trust anything that wore a uniform.
Yes, the door had given way by now to admit a moving figure, and then it was drawn shut again.
Elmer smiled to see how closely his guess had come to the actual truth. The Italian woman was not only squatty, and "broad of beam," as Lil Artha would have put it, but, as Elmer had said, might be close on sixty years of age, for she had many wrinkles, and her hair was certainly gray.