"Only four o'clock!" he announced. "There'll be more than three hours' darkness yet."
Harry made no answer, and except for the barking of the dog there was silence for a minute or two. It was Frank at last who broke it.
"I can't stand any more of this," he said. "Let's go down."
His companion seemed to hesitate. "It's not nice, but I don't know what to do. Aunt's in the house, and though Jake's on the lookout somewhere I've a notion that dad would call us if he meant us to come." He broke off and added in a very suggestive tone, "I don't—want—to stay in."
"We could go as far as the door, anyway," Frank persisted.
They slipped out of the room and made for the kitchen very quietly, but Frank was a little astonished when they reached it, because though there was no lamp burning the front of the stove was open and the faint glow which shone out fell upon Miss Oliver who was sitting close by. A rifle lay upon the table at her side and Jake's shadowy figure showed up near the open window.
"Where are you going, Harry?" she asked.
Harry stopped and leaned upon the table. "Out into the clearing a little way. After that, I don't know. I don't want to spoil dad's plans by butting in before it's necessary, but I wish he'd told us what to do. You won't mind if we go?"
"I've Jake—and this," Miss Oliver answered, quietly pointing to the rifle. "On the whole I think I'd just as soon you tried to find out what is going on, but keep out of sight while you're about it and be cautious."
They slipped out, and when they stopped at a short distance from the house Frank touched his companion.