“Oh! they must have lit out long before the Germans arrived,” Hanky said, confidently; “I hope now you don’t believe they were actually killed, and buried somewhere around here, do you, Josh? You are the worst hand to imagine terrible things I ever knew.”
“I didn’t say anything like that, did I?” demanded Josh; “but it must have been on your mind. Listen! what was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” said Hanky Panky, looking worried all the same; “what did it sound like, Josh?”
Instead of answering, Josh held his hand up to indicate that if the other stopped talking he too might catch the sound. And as they listened what seemed to be a long-drawn groan came up from the depths of the well from which they had just been drinking!
CHAPTER XXII.
AT THE FORD OF THE RIVER MARNE.
“Oh! did you hear that?” exclaimed Hanky Panky, all excitement; “it was a sure-enough moan. Rod, Josh, there’s been some poor fellow down there all this while; and we never dreamed of it when we pulled that bucket of water up!”
Saying this Hanky Panky leaned far over the edge of the well curb, and attempted to see into the murky depths. Rod cast a quick look in the direction of Josh, who gave him a sly wink, but kept a straight face.
“I can’t see anything, for a fact,” complained Hanky Panky in great distress; “but it was a groan, I’m sure–there it goes again, and worse than before. Oh! Rod, do you believe some poor chap tried to hide in the well when he saw all those awful Germans coming, and hasn’t been strong enough to climb up again since?”
“Why, that might be possible, of course,” replied Rod, “though just how he could stay down there this long is more than I can understand.”