“Perhaps, but—hist! what was that?”
Bob pointed to the rear of the cow-shed as he spoke. A movement of some kind had attracted his attention.
“I didn’t see anything.”
“It looked to me like a man moving about.”
“Perhaps it was Freeman’s colt. He leaves him out here over night.”
But Bob shook his head. He was certain that what he had seen was not a horse.
“I’m going up and find out,” he said. “You stay here and watch for a move from below.”
“All right. If you see him, whistle.”
Bob moved away through the semi-darkness. Passing along the rail fence to the end of the barn he hopped over, and, without making a sound, crossed to the cow-shed.
As he did so, a form sprang away from the shed and darted around the corner of the barn. Bob was sure it was the form of Joe Horning.