Their conversation was pitched too low to be heard by one a yard away; in fact it was carried on mostly in whispers.
Elfreda's watch showed that it lacked but a few minutes of one when, as she gazed at the illuminated dial, Grace suddenly gripped her arm.
"I heard something in the bushes," whispered Grace. "It may have been an animal. I rather think it was. I—"
Something thudded on the ground between the two girls and the laurel shrubs.
"Wha—at is it?" whispered Grace.
"A stick of wood," replied Elfreda. "It looks like a section of a tree limb. Something white is wrapped about it. Oughtn't we to see what it is?"
"No!" answered Grace with emphasis. "Sit tight. It may be a trick."
With rifles held at ready, ears alert, Elfreda Briggs and Grace Harlowe sat almost motionless until the skies began to assume a leaden gray that foretold the coming of another day.
A few moments later Elfreda crept over and returned with the stick that she had observed to fall. An old newspaper sheet was wrapped about it. This Miss Briggs undid cautiously, Grace's eyes keenly observing the operation.
"Look! There is writing on the lower margin of the sheet," she said.