As soon as he was certain that he was out of sight from the camp the hoot of an owl sounded through the woods. The sound was repeated three times and as the third hoot ended Jack, who was sitting on a log, a few feet from the door of the camp, whispered to Rex, who was beside him.
“Listen. I think that’s Bob.”
A moment later the cry came again, whoo, whoo, whoo—whoo, whoo, whoo—whoo, whoo, whoo.
“That’s Bob and he wants us,” Jack asserted, all doubt gone. “Now follow me and be mighty careful. Just walk about slowly as though we were not going anywhere in particular,” he whispered as he got to his feet.
Taking hold of Rex’s arm he led him slowly about among the groups of men talking carelessly. Little by little the two worked away until they were some distance from the camp. It was nearly dark by this time and Jack felt sure that he had aroused no suspicions in the minds of any of the men.
“We’ll stand here and talk a few minutes till it gets a bit darker,” he said.
In another five minutes he felt safe in making a break and with a word to Rex, he quickly led the way off from the river.
“Just wait a minute, and I’ll find out where he is,” he said after they had gone a few yards into the thick woods.
“Whoo, whoo, whoo.”
“Whoo, whoo, whoo.”