“Did you see anyone on the road as you came along?” continued he.
“No.”
“It’s damned funny!” muttered the fellow, and with that he turned away and was lost in the darkness.
Kenyon touched the horses with the whip; a little further on he remarked: “That would appear to be one of the men who arrived this morning, eh?”
“It must be,” answered Webster. “And apparently he’s posted at the cross-roads as a sort of lookout.”
“Did it strike you that he seemed a little bewildered?” asked Austin.
“He’s ‘seeing things at night,’” put in the pugilist. “And when a guy begins to do that in a nice, dark, lonely place, it kind of gets him going.”
“Someone probably passed along the road, and paid no attention to his signal, if he gave one,” suggested Kenyon.
“Um-m-m!” grunted Webster. And as they proceeded slowly along he narrowly scanned the roadside; also he listened attentively for any sounds that the night might hold, beyond his line of vision.
After a time the youth from Saginaw said: