“They will be wanting to send a scout or two in the dark to make preliminary observations. Why not take the lightning off the outer fences, and give them a chance?”
“I’ve already done it, Clarence. Did you ever know me to be inhospitable?”
“No, you are a good heart. I want to go and—”
“Be a reception committee? I will go, too.”
We crossed the corral and lay down together between the two inside fences. Even the dim light of the cave had disordered our eyesight somewhat, but the focus straightway began to regulate itself and soon it was adjusted for present circumstances. We had had to feel our way before, but we could make out to see the fence posts now. We started a whispered conversation, but suddenly Clarence broke off and said:
“What is that?”
“What is what?”
“That thing yonder.”
“What thing—where?”
“There beyond you a little piece—dark something—a dull shape of some kind—against the second fence.”