“Still,” said Bruce, “it may not have been a trick. It may have been something which ought to make us afraid.”
“I believe,” said Tom, “that we’ll find out all about it yet. Let us only keep dark, say nothing, and keep our eyes and ears open. We’ll find it out some time.”
“Well,” said Arthur, “I suppose we’re all out of the humor for digging. If so, suppose we smooth over this hole; and then we can take away our lights and spades. My only idea in coming back was to get the things and destroy all traces of our digging.”
“All right,” said Bruce, seizing a spade.
The other boys did the same, and soon the hole was filled up. They placed the sods over it as neatly as they could, and though the soil bore marks of disturbance, yet they were not conspicuous enough to excite particular attention.
Then they proceeded to gather up the things so as to carry them away. In the midst of this there came a voice out of the darkness, a long, loud, shrill voice,—a voice of painful, eager, anxious inquiry.
“B-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ys! O, b-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-ys!”
“It’s Captain Corbet!” cried Bart. “Hallo-o-o-o-o!” he shouted. “All ri-i-i-i-i-i-ght! We-e-e-’re h-e-e-e-re! All sa-a-a-a-a-a-afe! Come alo-o-o-o-o-o-o-ong!”
He stopped shouting then, and they all listened attentively. Soon they heard footsteps approaching, and before long they saw emerging from the gloom the familiar form and the reverend features of Captain Corbet. He came down into the hole, and after giving a furtive look all around, he said,—“So you’ve ben a toughin of it out, hev you? Wal, wal, wal!”
“No, captain,” said Bart; “we all ran as fast as we could.”