"No, bats. Look here. I knocked down one."
Rob held his candle high above his head, and the astonished boys saw lying under a projecting bit of rock one of the leathern-winged cave-dwellers.
"Huh," remarked Tubby, "and I thought it was ghosts. The ghost of the cliff. The one the cow-puncher said he saw."
"I guess that ghost has leather wings and a furry body, if the truth were known," laughed Rob, as he flung the bat he had knocked down into the air, and the creature flapped heavily off toward the cave mouth.
"Yes, ghosts are——" began Merritt, when he broke off suddenly. His mouth opened to its fullest extent, and his eyes grew as round as two big marbles. "Great hookey—what's that?"
His frightened expression was mirrored on the rest of the countenances in the candle-lit circle, as a strange sound was borne to the ears of the Boy Scouts.
"It's footsteps," gasped Jeb Cotton.
"Coming this way, too," stuttered Tubby, edging back.
"Nonsense," said Rob sharply, but nevertheless loosening his revolver in its holster. "It's the wind or something."
"The funniest wind I ever heard," interrupted Tubby scornfully. "It's got feet—hark!"