“HELLO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
The fellow sprang to his feet, amazed at this apparition which seemed to have dropped from the clouds.
“M-me?”
“Yes, you—what are you doing?”
“Who are you, anyway—what are you doing here?”
“I’m standing here,” said Harry, quietly. His manner was easy and his voice low, almost sociable. “What are you doing, digging a hole?”
The fellow instantly became as excited as Harry was calm, and tried to hide his confusion under a torrent of abuse.
“I guess you’re one of them scout fellers that’s always puttin’ their noses in other folks’ business. Do ye know ye’re on private land? I thought them scout fellers had a rule not to trespass. You get out of this double quick, or I’ll fix yer. You can’t prowl round this farm in the middle of the night—you nor none of yer hifalutin crew. What are ye doin’ here, anyway—where d’ye come from?”
“How do you know ‘them scout fellers’ have a rule not to trespass?” asked Harry, gently.