“Well, we shall have to drive the scoundrels farther off,” said Roberts, “for I want some shooting.”
“Bring your gun?” cried Drummond, eagerly.
“Regular battery. So did he; didn’t you, Bracy?”
There was no reply.
“Bracy, are you deaf?”
“No, no,” said the young man hurriedly, as he stood in one corner of the square tower, resting his binocular upon the parapet, and gazing through it intently.
“See a bear on one of the hills?” said Drummond sharply.
“No; I was watching that fir-wood right away there in the hollow. Are they patches of snow I can see in there among the trees?”
“Where—where?” cried Drummond excitedly.
“Come and look. The glass is set right, and you can see the exact spot without touching it.”