“Some fellow’s been prowling about here to-night. He gave a peculiar whistle. Did you hear it?”
“Me? No. Might have been some man from the hotel whistling to his dog.”
“Maybe,” and again Hippy turned to his work.
In a few moments the same whistle came again. The lieutenant put aside his writing materials quietly and stepped softly out into the darkness. He soon heard two voices, but pitched so low that he could not understand what was said. So Hippy tried to draw closer to the speakers. Just as he reached a spot where he might have overheard what was being said, he stepped on a stick that broke with a sharp snap. Knowing he could not now avoid discovery, he called:
“That you, Jim?”
“Yes, it’s me and a feller who says he’s lost his way. Ain’t a word of truth in that, though. Now you clear out, you tramp, and keep away from this camp,” the guide went on to his invisible companion. “You’re not going to rob us!”
The fellow hastened away and Jim returned to the camp with Hippy, who remarked:
“It doesn’t seem reasonable that a thief would signal his coming by a whistle, does it, Jim?”
“Thieves ain’t reasonable. But I guess the feller did that to make sure the way was clear.”
“Are you going to be around the camp, Jim?”