He found Sam half asleep in a chair in front of the little stove at one end of the long shed. He sprang up as the boy pushed open the door.
“Oh, it be you, oui,” he said, relieved as the light of a lantern which hung on the wall back of him disclosed his visitor.
“Yes, it’s I all right,” Bob replied. “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d come out and see how the patients are getting along.”
“Them get long ver’ weel. No so much seek now,” Sam assured him.
“Have you seen Tom?” Bob asked anxiously.
“Nicht, not after he come back bout ten,” Sam replied. “What mak’ you tink I see heem?”
“Why, the door of the office was open and I thought probably he was out here with you,” and a worried look sprang to Bob’s face which Sam was quick to notice.
“Dat ver’ queer, she be open dis cold night. We go see bout eet,” and Sam quickly slipped into his heavy mackinaw and grabbed his cap from a nail in the wall.
They were about half way across the clearing when two men stepped out of the office door. In the dim light they could only see their forms.
“Something’s wrong,” Bob gasped, as he caught Sam by the arm.