“I guess I’d better get up and get a drink,” he told himself, “and then I may be able to sleep better. Phew! but the thermometer has certainly been going up the last few days.”
He arose to his feet and walked out of the room into the hallway of the building, where in one corner there was a water-cooler. He had just finished drinking a glass of water when a sound from outside reached his ears. There was a shout from a distance, followed almost instantly by a rifle shot.
“Hello! what can that mean?” he cried.
A moment later came more shouts, this time a little closer to the camp. Then two more rifle shots rang out sharply through the midnight air.
“Something is wrong, that’s sure!” exclaimed the youth. Rushing back into the bedroom he shook Roger vigorously. At the same time he heard others getting up and calling to each other, 238 wanting to know what the shouts and shots meant.
“What do you want, Dave?” asked the senator’s son, sleepily.
“Get up, Roger!” answered our hero, quickly. “Hurry up! there is something going on outside! I just heard a number of yells and several rifle shots.”
“You don’t mean it, Dave!” and now Roger was on his feet with a bound. “Maybe it’s the greasers.”
“I don’t know what it is, Roger. But I guess we had better slip into our clothing. Maybe somebody is–– Listen!”
Dave broke off short, and both strained their ears to hear what was taking place outside. They heard a confused shouting, followed by several yells. And then came a volley of shots––five or six in number.