A short distance to the right was a thickly-wooded grove, and here the two soon found what would serve very well as a camp.
A small cleared space, almost entirely screened from view by bushes, afforded all the protection which might be needed, and Bill threw himself on the ground.
"I reckon we can go without supper," he said, with forced cheerfulness, "an' there'll be no bother about lockin' the doors."
"It won't be long before I'm asleep. Walking around so much has tired me more than a full day's work in the breaker."
"Don't keep awake on my account. The sooner your eyes are closed the sooner you'll forget that there's a chance of bein' sent to jail."
With his head pillowed on some dry leaves Fred had no difficulty in summoning slumber; but Bill tossed to and fro on the hard bed without the slightest desire for sleep.
The boy was dreaming of the frightful hours spent in the short slope after the explosion, when he was awakened by the pressure of a hand on his mouth.
It was dark, save for the twinkling stars, and silent, except when the leaves were swayed by the gentle wind.
"Don't speak," Bill whispered as he removed his hand. "I can see the light of a fire over there to the right, an' it's well for us to know who are campin' so near."
"What do you want me to do?"