Presently a mist crept over the sky, and black clouds rolled in from the threatening canopy over the gulf. There was evidently a storm brewing, and, besides, the night was coming on.
In spite of the fact that they had a good view all about them, so far as the house and its immediate vicinity was concerned, both boys felt that almost indescribable sensation which one experiences when being observed from behind by keen and magnetic eyes. They were not exactly afraid, but they had premonitions of approaching trouble.
"I wonder what's keeping Ned?" Jack asked. "Hope he hasn't gotten into trouble."
"Oh, he'll look out for that!"
"Of course! Ned's no slouch!"
While the boys cheered themselves with such remarks as these, the rooms grew darker and the black clouds from off the gulf dropped nearer.
"What an ungodly country!" Jack exclaimed. "I feel as if I were surrounded by snakes, and all kinds of reptiles. How would you like to take a New York special, just now?"
"I'm not yet seared of the job we are on," Frank replied, "but I'd like a half decent show of getting out alive. I feel like we were in a hole in the ground, with all manner of creeping things about us. The very air seems to be impregnated with treachery and cunning."
"That's the breath of the Orient," smiled Jack, not inclined to continue in the vein in which the conversation had started.
"I don't know why the breath of the Orient should differ from the breath of the Occident," replied Frank, well pleased at the change of subject. "It wouldn't, if the natives of the far East would put bathtubs in their houses and garbage cans on the street comers."