“By George! I heard something then!” he exclaimed, in an excited undertone, looking sharply about him; “but I don't know where it came from.”
His impression was that it came from some point directly before him out on the open space; but the most rigid scrutiny failed to reveal the cause. There was the level stretch of grass, unbroken by stone or shrub, but nothing that could be tortured into the remotest resemblance to a human figure.
“It can't be there,” he muttered; “or if it was, it do n't amount—”
His senses were aroused to the highest pitch, and he was all attention.
Just as the thoughts were running through his head, he caught the slightest possible rustle from some point behind him. He turned his head like lightning, and looked and listened. He could dimly discern the open moonlit space to which reference has already been made; but the intervening trees and undergrowth prevented anything like a satisfactory view.
“There's where it seemed to come from,” he said, to himself; “and yet I do n't see how an Indian could have got there without our finding it out. Maybe it was n't anything, after all.”
He waited and listened awhile longer, but no more. Anxious to learn what it all meant, he began a cautious movement toward the open space, for the purpose of finding out.
CHAPTER IV. FACING LONE WOLF
Fred's few weeks spent in crossing the plains on his way to the valley of the Rio Pecos had taught him much of the ways of the Indians, and he knew that if any of the scamps were in his immediate neighborhood, it would be almost impossible for him to stir from his position by the tree without betraying himself. The lad half suspected that the sound was made by some wild animal that was stealing through the wood, or what was more likely, that it was no more than a falling leaf; but, whatever it was, he was determined to learn if the thing were among the possibilities.