“We just finished eating over at Windsor’s.” This statement by the young man confirmed Harry’s conjecture that the young man was a guest of Blair Windsor. “Thought I’d drop over, and discuss a few details.”
“It’s time you did. This is the fourth night you’ve been back.”
“Yes; but you know how things are over at the house. I thought it best to take no chances. Everything is all right. No reason why I had to explain the details until now. I’m glad Windsor doesn’t know anything about—”
Harry felt himself slipping from his insecure perch. He managed to scramble back to the shed, and congratulated himself on the small amount of noise he made. Dropping quickly to the ground, he kept close to the shed.
Evidently he had been heard; for some one came to the window, closed it, and lowered the shade. Probably the men had attributed the noise to a cat; hearing it had simply caused them to adopt a precaution.
But there was no use waiting around here longer. Harry stole toward the front of the house.
An old automobile, noisy in operation, turned in at the other side of the building. Harry just managed to escape the glare of its lights. He moved across the front yard, and reached the dirt road.
* * *
A variety of thoughts perplexed him as he started back to the car. He felt that he had missed an interesting conversation; yet there was no way to listen in now. Nevertheless, it was a start toward new developments.
Harry smiled as he thought of the man who had come over the hill. The fellow had never dreamed that he had been seen and followed. Who would suspect curious strangers in this lonely vicinity of Massachusetts?