The group in the tent broke up at once, some of them walking down the company street for a distance of three or four tents and then slipping behind them. Once out of the glare of the several campfires they had no trouble in gaining the shelter of the trees, and after a few seconds they were all together.
“Which direction now?” Jim asked.
“Let’s go clear to the top of the Ridge,” suggested Jordan. “From there we can get a comprehensive view of the woods and hills and spot anything that moves.”
They set out for the top of the Ridge, walking with care and listening for every sound that might break the stillness. They had not gone far before there was a noise as though someone was moving before them. Spreading out fanwise they bore silently down on the spot from which the noise had come only to run into another patrol which was lying low and waiting for them to come forward.
“Oh, it is only you guys,” grunted Jordan, as Cadets Perry, Noxan, Dodge and Orlan confronted them.
“Yes, sorry to disappoint you by not being the ghost!” grinned Perry. “But we heard you coming along and we took to cover, so that you would run into us. I’m afraid that we’ll be doing that all evening.”
“Well, then let’s get over it by giving the school whistle every time,” suggested Don. “If we had whistled then you would have replied and we would have passed you in another direction.”
“A good idea, Mercer,” approved Dodge. “If we give the whistle and fail to receive the answer, we’ll know that the party before us is a suspicious case. We can then go after them in earnest.”
“Yes, that will be OK,” nodded the senior captain. “We are striking off here, boys. See you later.”
With that they left the party and continued their journey to the top of the hill. From there they could look all along the Ridge, and even see the faint gleam of their own campfires in the distance. There was no sign of life on the Ridge, but that was inconclusive, for they knew that directly below them several bands of cadets were moving around.