"He doesn't seem to be going to put out the fire."
"No," said Harry with the same strained laugh, "dad knows too much for that. Those logs are thick, they won't light easy, and it's only a little pile of small stuff that's burning. Dad has no use for standing out where those fellows can see him unless it's necessary. In the meanwhile the dope men don't know where he is and that's going to worry them."
Frank could understand this. It seemed very likely that the small fire would burn out before the logs caught, and it was clear that the men who had made it could not run back into the light to throw on more brushwood without incurring the hazard of being shot. On the other hand, Mr. Oliver would have to face the same peril if he approached to put it out. From this it seemed very probable that both he and the dope men would wait to see what the result would be.
In the meanwhile the crash of the rifle had had a curious effect on Frank. It was the first time that he had ever seen a shot fired in anger and he was sufficiently well acquainted with Mr. Oliver's character to feel certain that if the warning failed to prove efficacious the next bullet would not go wide. He felt his nerves tingle and caught his breath more quickly, for it seemed highly probable that he might be shortly called on to watch or, perhaps, take part in some horrible thing. He did not mean to shirk it, but at the same time he was conscious that he would have greatly preferred to be standing beside the schooner's wheel while she lurched over the big foaming seas.
The suspense became almost intolerable as he watched the fire, which presently sank until at last only a feeble, flickering blaze was left. Then a figure sprang out of the shadow and ran toward it carrying something in its arms. The next moment there was another crash in a different part of the clearing from where they had heard the first shot, and the figure, dropping its burden, vanished suddenly.
"That's Webster," said Harry dryly. "I'm not sure that he meant to miss."
In the meanwhile the savage barking of the dog, whom they had scarcely noticed during the last few moments, once more forced itself upon their attention.
"Why doesn't your father let the dog get after them?" Frank asked.
"I don't know," Harry answered. "It's possible he'd rather not have them routed out from among the trees. If it were only daylight we could stand them off! Have you your watch?"
Frank took it from his pocket and rubbed a sulphur match in nervous haste. It went out and he struck another with quivering fingers. A pale glow of light sprang up and he held the watch close against it.