He examined it carefully and then passed it to his wife.
“Do you think it is from the same party?” she asked, then, turning to the boys, she added: “Mr. Sleeper is quite an expert on hand-writing.”
“I don’t think there’s any doubt about it,” he said at once adding: “Of course, it would be impossible to say that both were printed by the same person so far as the printing itself is concerned since one is on paper and the other on birch bark, but it’s hardly likely that there are two parties up here in the woods trying to scare the boys.”
“I think you’re right, sir,” Bob agreed.
CHAPTER VIII
WHERE IS JACK?
“Isn’t it about time for the show to start?”
The boys had taken a long nap after dinner as they had determined to stay awake all night in an effort to accomplish something toward clearing up the mystery. Since dark they had been sitting in the little cabin not speaking above a whisper and it was Jack who asked the question.
“Five minutes to twelve,” Bob replied.
He had hardly whispered the words when a soft but distinct rap, repeated four times, was heard.
“S-s—h,” Bob cautioned.