He moved his gun up inch by inch, so that he could discharge it at the proper time. Not that he had the slightest intention of doing Dobson the least bodily injury, beyond the fright that an unexpected shot would bring.
Back of the moving figure of the farmer he could see a second form.
"His man Friday. Well, I'll include him in the performance, too," thought Frank, who was always generous by nature.
Sometimes the best-laid plans go wrong. The farmer doubtless believed he could enter the camp in this brazen way, hunt around until he found Jed, and then force the poor lad to accompany him home.
Frank, on his part, expected presently to take part in the performance, and was even figuring on how high the farmer would jump when the flash of the gun came, accompanied with the crash of the discharge.
Both were counting without their host, for it seemed that there was still another element that meant to be taken into consideration.
Just as Frank had his finger pressing on the trigger, and felt sure that it was time for him to let go, there was an unearthly shriek from the direction of the rise to the right of the camp. Looking hastily that way, Frank saw a sight that instantly riveted his attention, and caused his nerveless finger to fall away from the trigger of his gun.
"The ghost walks! And just in time to get a large and select audience!" he exclaimed, as he saw a shining figure rear up in full view, glistening just as Will had said, with a phosphorescent glow, and one hand waving in a commanding manner, as though urging upon the trespassers the necessity of a quick departure.
Loud cries attested to the fact that Farmer Dobson and his hired man had received the shock of their lives.