“What?” demanded the larger man.
“That noise! Some one must be prowling about here,” continued the swarthy one in a whisper just loud enough to reach Tom’s ears.
As he spoke the Spaniard’s head turned in such a way as to show that he was looking up into the tree in which Tom stood. It was becoming a truly bad quarter of an hour for the boy.
“I heard nothing,” said the other one gruffly. “Leastways, nothing more than some night animal stirring, maybe.”
“Let’s make a search of these trees,” proposed the Spaniard.
Tom shivered. Danger was again coming much too close to please him.
“Come along,” rejoined the florid-faced one impatiently. “We’re wasting too much time, listening to the whisperings of the wind. Come along, Alvarez.”
After a brief objection the one addressed as Alvarez turned and stepped off with his friend. They had not gone far when Tom Halstead slipped down the tree trunk. Alarmed as he had been when danger threatened most, he now knew that he must follow them.
“For they may lead me straight to Ted Dunstan,” he thought eagerly.
Naturally he did not think it wise to get too close to the pair. Captured again, Tom Halstead knew that he was not likely to be able to be of any further service to his employer. Besides, in escaping and leaving his coat in the hands of the enemy he now remembered how his white shirt might betray him if he got too close to them.