“Hush,” whispers Mark. “There’s a boat a-comin’ down the river.”
“Batten come? Bill come? Eh?”
“I guess so. C-c-couldn’t be anybody else.”
“Sammy go see.” Off went Sammy as quiet as a fish in the water, leaving us all alone.
“Let’s stamp out what’s left of the fire,” says I.
It had burned almost out, but we trampled the coals, and when they were black we covered the place with brush so nobody’d know there had been any fire at all. Now it was as dark as if we were in somebody’s pocket, and mighty uncomfortable, I can tell you. Both of us made for our beds and sat on them with our feet pulled up, to wait for Sammy.
In no time he was back. I didn’t hear him coming, but all at once he was there. It was just as if he’d popped up out of the ground.
“Who is it?” Mark whispered.
“Batten and Bill,” says Sammy.
“Where are they?”