“G-g-good idea,” says Mark. “Then let’s get there by daylight.”
We took a spade and went out back of the barn to dig worms. The ground was pretty dry, but by digging over about an acre we got a half a canful.
“Think it’s enough?” I asked.
“All you can g-g-get has got to be enough,” says Mark, which was perfectly true. Anyhow, if we got one fish for every worm we would have more than we could eat.
Uncle had an old alarm-clock that would still run considerable. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it would run just right, but it had two hands and a face, and it ticked. That ought to be enough for any clock. And it did alarm. I should say it did! It went off like the crack of doom.
“What time’ll I set her for?” I asked.
“’Bout two o’clock,” says Tallow.
Mark grunted. “Two n-n-nothin’,” he stuttered. “Three’s plenty early.”
Then we went to bed. We didn’t seem to be as nervous that night as we had been the night before, which was pleasant. I don’t like to be scared. It is one of the most disagreeable things that happen to me. I was just dozing off when Mark spoke to me.
“Those f-f-fellers was here to-day,” he says.