“Is he inside the wire, I wonder,” says I.
“Why?”
“If he was outside we could sic the skeleton on him, and let it bite his leg.”
“We’ll sic it on him, all right,” says he, “but first we’ve got to lead up to it.”
“How?” says I.
“Hollow groans,” says he.
“I can do that,” says I. “My nose hurts so I can groan real natural.”
“All right,” he says, “you can be the official groaner of this expedition, but don’t let go with one till I say so.”
“Hurry up, then,” I says, “because I feel a groan coming on.”
We started in then and crawled closer until we weren’t more than a dozen feet from where the man was walking back and forth. We could barely see a black shape where he was. We kept quiet, and before long another sentinel came along and the two stopped to talk.