“And some fighter,” Jack added. “What’ll he weigh?”
“Fifteen pounds if an ounce.”
At the supper table that night Bob tried adroitly to draw the big half-breed out regarding the ghost but, for some reason best known to himself, he was loath to talk about it and the boy did not dare to press the matter too far. So they learned nothing more that was of any use to them.
“If he’s innocent why doesn’t he want to talk about it?” Jack demanded as they were getting ready for bed a couple of hours later.
“Ask me something easy,” Bob smiled. “I tell you he’s a deep one, if I’m any judge but, just the same, I don’t believe he’s guilty.”
“Maybe not, but it’s my bet that he’ll bear watching.”
Each boy had a flashlight and an automatic beneath his pillow that night when he crawled into bed.
“Now let ’em come,” Bob whispered in a sepulchral tone as he blew out the light.
But nothing happened and they were somewhat chagrined when, after a dreamless sleep, they awoke to find the sun two hours high.
“Guess the ghost must be taking a vacation,” Jack laughed as he threw a pillow at his brother.