“What then do you think we are going to do?” he asked, in ghastly tones.
“Why two of us are going up to Doctor Forester, and two are going to stay here and keep watch.”
“You don’t think....”
“What, in heaven’s name, can we think?”
Carroll and Marsh started on a run up the beach, leaving their two companions crouched on the rocks, peering down fearsomely into the stream. The night seemed to them to grow colder, darker, more dismal. The moon in fact had set.
“By Jove, this is rum!” Thorndyke choked, in a grisly effort to seem at ease.
“It’s ghastly, Harry,” whispered Chapin, as he put his hand on the other boy’s arm.