"Where?" the other whispered back, feeling a thrill of expectation, as it began to appear as though their weary vigil might meet with some measure of success.
"See that star low down near the horizon—just to the right of that bush."
"I get you, Lanky!"
"I hit the bullseye, Frank, because there he is again!" continued the owner of the eagle vision.
All of the chums had their eyes glued on the point Lanky had mentioned, for the brilliant setting star was plainly visible. Yes, something was moving, for a fact, and it must be either a venturesome coyote prowling around in search of a toothsome bone or else a man down on his knees, crawling toward the ranch house.
Closer came the object of their scrutiny. Presently Frank gave a low and suggestive grunt.
"A man, all right," he muttered.
"Heading right this way, too," chucked Lanky, well pleased over the way things were working out.
A hiss from Frank warned the others that greater caution than ever was now necessary. It would be too bad if after all some thoughtless act on their part should frighten off the queer little "sawed-off," as Lanky refereed to the moonlight visitor.
Every few minutes they could see that he elevated his head as though to take a wide survey, and thus made doubly certain he was not creeping into a trap.