They gave up that plan after a half-hour’s sentry duty on two of the lower limbs of a poplar tree. Not only were their positions uncomfortable, but the mosquitoes annoyed them despite their masks of mud. Then, too, an owl had taken up its position in a nearby tree and hooted into the awful darkness until they felt they could stand it no longer.
“Sounds like Devlin,” said the superstitious Nickie. “Sounds like his spook.”
“How can it be, if he ain’t dead?” Skippy whispered back.
“Aw, ain’t my aunt told me that some guys is so bad, they have infloo-ence on things ’round them? Well, I heard owls near that house like you did, an’ how do you know Devlin didn’t put the bead on one of ’em an’ make it just like he is?”
“Pretty soon you’ll be tellin’ me you believe in imps an’ all that stuff in fairy stories,” Skippy said, with a little laugh.
“Aw, shut up!”
Skippy was silent, for the owl had taken the stage and drowned them out completely.
CHAPTER XXX
DEVIL’S BOG
Dawn finally came, and they waited anxiously for the light to filter through the trees sufficiently for them to be on their way. It was a disheartening sight that the light disclosed, for nothing but trees and swamp seemed to surround them and they could see no road or trail.
Skippy had been to the top of the tree, but it was not high enough for a lookout. “There’s so many other trees higher’n this, it can’t be done,” he said, disappointed. “An’ how we gonna climb those high trees when they can’t be climbed, huh?”