Perhaps not so strange after all, when every thing should become known.
“I’ll see what kind of a watch he’s keeping.”
With which Black Tom reached out, and taking hold of a twig, snapped it so quickly that it made quite a sharp noise.
Quick as lightning, the stranger sprung to his feet, and darted back in the darkness.
“That’s done pretty well,” concluded the trapper, not a little pleased at the movement.
“Who’s there?” demanded the young man, in a rich bass voice.
“A friend,” was the instant reply.
“Come forward, then, and show yourself.”
“Hyar I am!” replied Tom, as he stepped forward in the light of the camp-fire, and waited for the stranger to show himself.