"It did sound a bit like a dog's howl," admitted Bert. "May I go out and see what it is, Daddy?"
"I'll take a look," said Mr. Bobbsey. He stepped to the flap of the tent and listened. The queer sound came again, and he went outside, while Bert went near the tent opening to listen. He, as well as his father, then heard another noise—that made by some one walking across the ground, stepping on and breaking small sticks.
"Who's there?" suddenly called Mr. Bobbsey, exactly, as Bert said afterward, like a soldier sentinel on guard. "Who's there?"
"It's me—Sam," was the answer. "I done heard some queer noise, Mr. Bobbsey, an' Dinah said as how I'd better git up and see what it was."
"Oh, all right, Sam. We heard it too. Listen again."
Sam stood still, and Mr. Bobbsey remained quietly outside the big tent. Sam and his wife lived in a smaller tent not far away, and they usually went to bed early, so Sam had had to get up when the queer noise sounded.
Suddenly it came again, and this time Bert, who had stuck his head out between the flaps of the tent, called:
"There it is!"
"Who! Who! Who!" came the sound, and as Mr. Bobbsey heard it he gave a laugh.
"Nothing but an owl," he said. "I should have known it at first, only I couldn't hear well in the tent. You may go back to bed, Sam, it's only an owl."