Summoning all his courage, he stepped out boldly and advanced toward the tree, but when he reached it there was still no living creature to be seen.
Twice Sage circled the buildings without result, and he became satisfied that the unknown had lost no time in departing.
“But it’s mighty queer,” he muttered—“mighty queer. I don’t understand it. Perhaps I ought to tell father, but if I do I know mother won’t sleep to-night.”
Silently though he reentered the house, Spot barked again, and Fred’s father opened the door into the hall.
“Just stepped outdoors for a minute,” said the boy. “It’s going to be a good day to-morrow, I think.”
“Oh, is it you?” said Mr. Sage. “Spot barked, and your mother thought he heard something. We had an idea you were abed.”
“I’m going now. Good-night. Good-night, mother.”
“Good-night, Fred,” called his mother in response, and Mr. Sage closed the door.
For more than half an hour Fred watched from his unlighted window. He heard his parents retire, and the light no longer shone forth from the sitting-room. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness and he could see certain objects in the vicinity of the house, but they were all familiar objects, and amid them no strange shadow moved.
“I’ll have to tell father and mother to-morrow,” decided the boy, as he finally got into bed.