“All right,” thought Frank, “maybe I won’t ever be in a mountain town again at two o’clock on a June mornin’ with the moon shinin’ all over everything. So here goes for a little sight-seein’ of my own.”
Reaching the observation platform Frank found Sam Skinner apparently asleep. But the boy had no sooner touched the drawn curtains than the hunter spoke.
“I’m just goin’ out to look about,” explained Frank.
Without comment Sam threw off his blankets, filled his pipe and followed the boy to the ground.
“Was you awake when we got here?” asked Frank.
“Yes,” answered Sam, “Mr. Mackworth was up. I got out with him. He saw the conductor. And say,” added Sam, “he went up to the engine and gave the engineer some money. He’s always generous with folks he likes.”
Frank was thinking hard. At last he said to himself:
“Well, anyway, it wasn’t any business of mine. It would have been foolish for us to have done it. I’m glad we didn’t wake up.”
The moon, now behind a mountain range, left Rexford buried in the shadows of the valley. There was not a light in sight except a feeble glow in the near-by station and a few switch signals. Frank could form no estimate of the size of the place, and as the gloom was not inviting and the air was frostlike and snappy the boy gave up his plan for a night excursion. He had just suggested a return to Sam when the old hunter caught him by the arm, made a motion signifying silence and then disappeared around the end of the car.