“Not any. But I’m still curious about that noise. Seems to have stopped, and I’d like to know what it really was.”
“Thought you said it was rocks falling down the mountain?”
“Well, it probably was. But that doesn’t prove anything. Suppose it was a landslide? It might be, you know. And landslides aren’t things you can fool with.”
“A landslide on Mica Mountain? Forget it! Never knew one to happen yet. Golly, look at that buzzard! Wish I had a rifle along; bet I could knock him for a loup.”
Roy turned again in his saddle. Evidently he had not heard Teddy’s remark about the bird circling overhead, for he did not reply. Instead he listened intently.
“Say, what’s the matter with you?” Teddy demanded, as he watched his brother. “You give me the willies. Why don’t you—”
Roy held up his hand.
“Listen!” he commanded. “Hear that?”
To the boys’ ears came that same queer rumbling noise. Now it did not decrease as it had before, but grew louder and louder. The brothers faced each other, paling beneath their tan.
Suddenly a stone hit the ground with a crash directly in front of Teddy’s horse. The thunder increased in volume—it seemed almost at their heels. Then another stone fell—and another!