They began humming the chorus of one of the songs they had sung in the minstrel show, and so passed on down the road. There was a moon, and the movements of the crooked-nosed man could easily be observed. He struck off across the vacant lots toward the barn, not even looking back at the singing boys, who did, indeed, have the appearance of negroes.
Proceeding far enough beyond a turn of the road to be hidden from sight, Ned, Bob, and Jerry waited a few minutes, and then turned back. This time they did not sing, and they talked only in whispers.
Cautiously they approached the barn, looking for any sign of a light or any movement that would indicate the presence of the mysterious man or of a person who had come there to meet him, or with whom he had expected to keep a rendezvous.
“‘All quiet along the Potomac,’” quoted Bob, in a low voice.
“Well, have it quiet here, too,” whispered Jerry. “We may discover something, and we may not. But there’s no use in giving ourselves away. He may get angry if he finds we’re not what we seem to be, and knows that we’ve been following him. Go easy now!”
The young soldiers finally stood in the shadow of the barn and listened intently. At first they heard nothing but the rattle and flap of some loose pieces of wood.
“He’s gone!” murmured Ned.
“Listen!” advised Jerry.
Even as he spoke they all heard the low murmur of voices. And the voices were those of men.