"Can she shoot?" he asked.
"It's my opinion that she'd beat you at it every time," said Harry curtly.
He raised his hand as though to demand silence, and they both stood listening, but there was deep silence now, for the dog had ceased to bark. It was difficult to imagine that somewhere in the shadowy clearing there were a number of men watching with every sense alert.
"I think the first shot came from the other side of the fruit trees. We'll look in among them," said Harry.
Treading very softly, they made for the trees, which were young and had shed their leaves, but their trunks and branches, massed in long rows, offered concealment. They would not entirely cover up the figure of any one standing among them, but they would break its outline, which is almost as effective since, as Frank had already learned, it is singularly difficult to recognize an object when one can only see a part of it. Besides, the sky was overcast and there was no moon visible.
The boys walked a few steps and stopped again to consider. It was as still as ever, and there was nothing to guide them in deciding where Mr. Oliver or Mr. Webster might be, while they recognized that any noise they made would probably be followed by a rifle shot. The smugglers and ranchers would naturally be listening for the least sound that might betray each other's presence. The first incautious movement would therefore lay either party open to attack, and Frank could understand the smuggler's hesitation in making another attempt to burn the barn, since, apart from any noise they made, the figure of the man who started the fire would be forced up clearly by the light. Indeed, he fancied that so long as the two men kept still their opponents must do the same.
In the meanwhile he found it singularly difficult to crouch in the grass waiting and listening. It would have been much easier to move forward, even at the hazard of drawing the smuggler's fire upon himself, but as this was out of the question he restrained the desire to do so by an effort of his will. To hasten an attack would interfere with Mr. Oliver's plans, and there was no doubt that the odds against the rancher were already heavy. Frank, however, could not keep his heart from thumping painfully or his fingers from trembling upon the gun barrel. Never had time seemed to pass so slowly.
Several minutes dragged by and still no sound rose from the surrounding fruit trees or shadowy clearing. It almost seemed as if Mr. Oliver and his opponents meant to lie motionless until the morning, which Frank realized was a good deal more than he could force himself to do.