“What time was it when that howling began last night,” Tom asked as he replenished the fire.
“Just eleven o’clock,” Bob replied. “I looked at my watch just before I heard it.”
“Thin it’s mor’n likely it’ll begin about the same time ternight.”
“I suppose so. What’s your plan, Tom?”
“Well now,” and Tom rubbed his chin reflectively. “’Tis not aisy ter tell the direction of a noise like that in the night, but I’m a thinkin’ it came from the south all right an’ it warn’t mor’n about a half a mile away when it started, so I don’t see iny other way but for us ter go out thar in the woods an’ jest wait an’ trust ter luck. It’s prutty cold an’ it ain’t a goin’ ter be no picnic, but I gess we’ll have ter be after doin’ it.”
“I guess you’re right,” Bob agreed as he pulled out the checker board and began to arrange the men.
They played until the clock told them that it was half-past ten and then Tom announced that it was time to start.
It was ten below and although the stars gave a faint light in the clearing, as soon as they were among the trees it was so dark that they could hardly see a dozen feet ahead. They did not of course dare to use their flashlights, for fear that the man would be scared off and they did not want to have to repeat the experience. There was no wind and no sound, save the slight creaking of the snow beneath their snow-shoes, to break the stillness of the night.
“Don’t you think we’ve gone about far enough?” Bob whispered. “It’s ten minutes to eleven.”
“I gess so, but we’ll have ter kape moving about ter kape from frazing,” Tom replied as he vigorously swung his arms about his body.