Then Mollie half stumbled, half fell into the tent, nearly upsetting Grace as she did so. Her hands were shaking and her throat felt dry.
“Where are the searchlights?” she asked in a strained husky whisper. “Do you know where Betty put them, Grace?”
“Here,” answered Grace, and, after a moment of groping in the dark, a hand torch suddenly flooded the gloom with its light. In the glow the girls regarded one another fearfully, the fright they had had showing plainly on their faces.
“Let’s sit down and t-talk this thing over,” suggested Mollie, trying bravely to get herself in hand. “I g-guess neither of us will want to sleep for a while.”
“Sleep!” exclaimed Grace, shakily. “I feel as though I never wanted to sleep again. M-Mollie, did you see what I saw?”
“Perfectly,” said Mollie. Her voice was steady once more but it might be noted that she sat with her face toward the tent flap. “Nothing’s going to take me by surprise if I can help it,” she had told herself defiantly.
“Then what was it?” persisted Grace. She also was watching the tent flap. “Do you think it was an—an animal?”
“Nonsense,” retorted Mollie brusquely. “Didn’t you see it stand upright? And what animal ever does that?”
Grace giggled hysterically.
“Well, if it’s a m-man,” she said, “so much the worse. What did he want, anyway, prowling around our tent in the m-middle of the night?”