It was a little after midnight when Frank thought he saw a gleam of light either in the cabin or close by it. It was very faint, scarcely more than the glimmer of a firefly, and it vanished instantly.
Still, it had been there. Cautiously, avoiding every twig with the stealth of an Indian, Frank crept toward the hut.
CHAPTER XXI
A FAMILIAR VOICE
As Frank neared the cabin he redoubled his precautions, and it was here that his scout training stood him in good stead.
When he was within twenty feet he went down flat on the earth and wormed his way to one of the sides that had been left standing. He placed his ear against a board and listened intently.
But not a sound rewarded him. The deepest silence reigned.
For a moment he was tempted to believe that his eyes had played a trick on him. But they had seldom done this and he had learned to trust them.
The light could not have come from a firefly, for it was too late in the season for them. What then had caused it?
He worked his way around to the shattered doorway and inch by inch lifted his head until his eyes were on a level with the floor. Quickly they swept the room, which was so small that the faint light that came from the stars enabled him to see that it was empty.