“Never saw a day last so long in my life,” grumbled Vench, digging his heel into the soft mud.
“It is just about the usual length, I guess,” smiled Don. “One thing is going to be for and against us tonight.”
“What is that?” the others asked.
“There will be just enough of a moon to make us have to be careful, and just enough to help us spot the ghost if he gets out into the open.”
Jordan emerged from his tent and stopped at the various groups to give some sort of an order. When he got to the members of the Ghost Patrol he repeated it finally.
“When we leave the camp we are to leave by the back way, taking care to keep out of the light of the fires,” he told them. “It is possible that someone is watching the camp and our game would be spoiled if we walked out in such a way that it could be seen. In about a half hour we will be able to get going.”
“The bunch in camp will have to keep their eyes wide open,” said Douglas.
“Yes, and the colonel will be helping them do it. We have to be careful that this isn’t all some tricky plan to pull us out of camp while somebody with kindly ideas rushes in and burns the place out. The colonel has arranged this signal: three rifle shots for a recall. That will mean trouble in the camp, and if you hear it, head for camp as fast as you can go.”
Darkness finally fell and the stars appeared faintly in the summer sky as the slice of the moon cut the distant horizon. One group broke up and disappeared back of the tents and another followed. Jordan got up.
“All right, let’s go,” he announced, glancing at his watch. “Slip out of camp without a sound. Keep to the shadows.”