Ere long the camp was quiet, save for the strenuous breathing of Bluff, who persisted in lying on his back, and gently snoring. Will sat out his watch and then awoke Frank, whose turn came after him.
It was just about midnight when he took up his station where he could see all that went on in the camp. He meant to keep a good watch, because, if those rascally tramps were really on the island it was more than possible that they would sooner or later try to make another raid on the larder of the boys in order to satisfy their hunger.
The moon had risen long before, but was hidden behind a bank of heavy clouds.
Frank was trying to figure out how he ought to act under such conditions. He had said that he did not want to do the tramps bodily injury if it could be prevented, but at the same time there might arise conditions that would necessitate prompt and severe measures of reprisal.
He would not like to shoot unless the object of his anger were at a good distance so that the bird-shot would not severely injure the object of his attentions.
Frank had his back against a tree, and could observe the entire camp as he sat there with the minutes passing. Strange noises came from the interior of the island, but this lad had spent so many nights under canvas that most of them were familiar to him as the cries of owls or nighthawks, perhaps quarreling raccoons or an opossum objecting to a rival’s attentions to his mate.
But when he had been sitting there fully an hour Frank’s attention was called to a slight movement in the bushes on one side of the camp.
Thrilled with expectancy he watched the leaves, and kept his fingers upon the triggers of the gun that lay across his knees, ready for an emergency.
CHAPTER VII—EXPLORING THE ISLAND
Again the bushes moved. Undoubtedly there was some person or animal advancing in the direction of the twin tents, with the intention of securing a coveted article of food.