“Hello! Are you there, Tubby?” questioned Rob cautiously, for neither of them had noticed that they were crouching close to the bunk selected by the third member of the party. Tubby, chancing to awaken, must have heard them whispering.
“Yes, but could it be the dog, do you think, Rob?” asked the fat scout eagerly.
“That’s silly talk, Tubby,” Andy told him, so softly that his voice would not have carried any distance, and might never have been distinguished from that crooning night breeze that rustled the hemlocks and passed gently through the pinetops.
“Dogs couldn’t reach up and shake a shutter that stood five feet from the ground. It’s a man, that’s what; and we’d better figure on how we’re going to give him the surprise of his life, if he gets inside here.”
“Wait till I get my little hand electric torch,” said Rob, who often carried one of these useful articles about with him; indeed, any fellow who has handled such a neat little contraption in an emergency knows that they are worth their weight in silver every time.
The one Rob had was very diminutive; in fact, a “vest-pocket edition,” it was called; but upon pressing the button quite a strong ray would be thrown forward. He kept it handy when sleeping in the open.
“Tubby, get out of your bunk, and be ready to lend a hand,” ordered Rob. The one addressed hastened to do as he was told.
“Tell me what I’m to do, Rob,” he pleaded.
“Bring both your heads closer this way,” continued the leader. “Now, this is the scheme: Tubby, you creep over to the fire, and when you hear me call out throw that wooden screen down, and then as quick as you can get a handful of the fine tinder on the fire, so as to set up a blaze. Understand?”
Tubby said he did, and accordingly Rob went on further: