CHAPTER XVIII
WHAT LAY IN THE BRUSH
"Wake up, Paul!"
Bobolink accompanied these whispered words by a gentle shake. He seemed to know instinctively just where the scout master was lying; or else it must have been, that all this had been systematically laid out beforehand; and every fellow had a particular place where he was to curl up in his blanket when not on duty.
Paul was awake instantly, even though he had been far gone in sleep at the moment that hand touched his arm.
"All right, Bobolink," he said, in a low tone, so as not to arouse any of the others. "I'm with you. Time up?"
"Not quite, Paul; but there's some sort of beast creeping around the camp; and I thought you ought to know."
Paul sat up at once.
"You did the right thing, Bobolink," he remarked, quietly.
The sentry could hear him groping around, as if for something. Presently
Paul seemed to have found what he sought. Of course it was his shotgun.