He felt his nerves tingle as he stood and listened. The sound had ceased and he could only hear the wind among the firs whose tops rustled eerily. But presently the unmistakable fall of a heavy foot came out of the shadows. Then he shrank back instinctively a pace or two into deeper gloom, for there was no doubt that somebody was approaching, and while he waited a black figure appeared in the opening not far in front of him. The faint light was behind the man and he showed up against it dim and indistinct, but Frank realized that he was not Mr. Barclay. He looked taller and less heavily built. Then the boy dropped noiselessly and held his breath, for a brittle branch had cracked under him. The stranger stopped and seemed to be gazing about him.
He moved on again, however, and Frank turned his face toward the ground, fearing that it might show white in the gloom, but it was only by a determined effort that he held himself still and mastered the desire to crawl back farther into the shadow. He knew that if he yielded to it he would be on his feet in another moment and might break away into the bush or do something else which he would afterward regret. He realized that Mr. Barclay and Harry must have seen the stranger and had for some reason kept out of sight and let him go by.
In the meanwhile the man was drawing nearer and Frank made out that he was carrying something. It seemed almost impossible that he could pass without seeing the boy, and the effort it cost the latter to lie still became more arduous. It would have been an unspeakable relief even to spring up and face the stranger with empty hands. Then he drew level, and once more Frank set his lips as he listened to the footsteps. At every moment he expected them suddenly to stop. They continued, however, and although, since he dared not turn, he could not see the man now, it was clear that he had passed.
Frank waited a minute or two longer and then rose softly with a gasp of fervent relief. He was annoyed to feel that he was still quivering with the tension and he stood still a few moments to regain his composure before he went quietly back toward his companions. As he neared the spot where he had left them Mr. Barclay stepped out from behind a tree.
"You met that man?" he asked.
"Yes," said Frank, "that is, I saw him coming and kept out of the way. He walked close by me and I think he was carrying a spade."
"He was," Mr. Barclay assented. "I was afraid he might surprise you, but we couldn't shout and warn you without alarming him, which I didn't want to do for one or two reasons. We'll wait here until he's through with the business that brought him."
He drew Frank farther back among the trees and soon after they sat down a faint rustling followed by a clatter of stones reached them from the hollow. There was no doubt that the man was digging up the case. Harry, who was lying near Frank's feet, moved restlessly and at length he rose.
"That fellow's certainly one of the gang," he said. "I don't see why we shouldn't get him. Frank and I could work around behind the hollow and head him off while you walk in."
"Well," said Mr. Barclay dryly, "what would follow?"