Even Charley Moi was there, full of curiosity, and willing to lend a hand after a fashion. Bob looked around; just as his chum had done as soon as he entered. He saw that some one had certainly been there recently. There were plenty of evidences to that effect.
Old Hank raised his hand with the forefinger elevated. It was recognized as a signal for absolute silence by all the others. Even Bob restrained his desire to ask questions; and every one listened, as if expecting to catch sounds.
Was that a human voice?
Frank started a trifle as the idea came to him. Still, it might only have been an additionally strong movement of the breeze; turning some angle that caused it to give forth a sound.
He turned to see if any of the others had heard, and judged from the way old Hank had his head raised that he, too, had caught the sound; also that it appealed to him as full of significance.
Again the veteran waved his hand. This time it meant not only caution, but an invitation to advance. Hank was about to pass into the next apartment, and wished the others to keep close at his heels.
Bob was quivering all over with the fever of suspense, as well as pent-up eagerness. He did not know just how much longer he could hold in; for he wanted to yell. Still, he did not do it. Since coming to this wonderland country of the Southwest he had learned many lessons in the way of self control; and every day he was gaining more and more of a mastery over himself.
Now Hank was in the second room, and still heading onward toward another hole in the wall, evidently the only means of communication between the various houses forming the little community.
When he reached this, voices were plainly heard beyond. Hank kept right on, heading for yet a third doorway; and whoever was doing the talking, he or they must be in that further apartment; so that in another minute Frank expected to have his curiosity fully satisfied.[Contents]