CHAPTER XII
LOSING THEIR BEARINGS
Bob chose to consider this a direct challenge.
"I expect that it would be queer if we didn't make some sort of effort to find out what the light means. Where is it, Frank?" he remarked, with perfect coolness.
"Well, it must have gone out while you were speaking, Bob, as sure as anything," the other replied. "But I saw it, I give you my word I did. Huh! there she comes again, just like it was before. Step over here; the spur of the rock is in your way there. Now look straight up. Get it?"
"Easy, Frank. A fellow might think it was a star, if he didn't know the mountain was there. Now it's getting bigger right along."
"That's so, Bob. And yet it doesn't seem to be a fire, does it?"
"More like a lantern to me," declared the Kentucky boy. "Say, what d'ye reckon anybody could want a lantern up there for? Can you see any swinging motion to the light Frank?"
"It does seem to move, now and then, for a fact," admitted the other, after watching the gleam for a short time.
"About like a brakeman might swing his lantern if he was on a freight train in a black night, eh?" continued Bob.