"Well, I'm sick of it," said Fritz still in his low, hoarse whisper, and seemed to move away from the side of the hill where he had been standing.
The boys with the greatest caution wriggled away.
"Now what do you think of that?" said Porky when they were in a position where they could talk in safety. "What do you think of that?"
"Anyhow," said Beany, "they aren't spies. I'm sort of fed up on spies. I can stand for most anything else."
"No, they are not spies. I can't make out just what their little game is. It's important, though; you can see that. And we have got to stop it somehow."
"That ought to be easy enough. Just go back and get the bunch and a few soldiers, and take 'em."
"What's the time, anyhow?" asked Porky. He answered his own question by fishing his wrist watch out of his pocket. He had put it there for fear the luminous dial might be seen.
"Only eleven," he said. "Plenty of time." He sat staring into the darkness. There were very few flares now, although the night was usually kept bright with them.
"Wonder why that is," Porky said.
"Something to do with our little mud house, don't you think so?" said Beany.