Dave stood in the doorway, his lanky form with the red glare of the fire behind it casting a grotesque shadow on the interior wall of the cabin. He remained there on guard, lest any of the smugglers should return.
Alec struck a match. Its sputtering flame lighted the single room, dispelling the shadows for a brief moment. Anxiously they all peered around the dingy shanty.
"Hugh, where are you?" said Billy in a hoarse whisper. "Are you here? Can't you speak?"
Still no answer.
Then Alec's match went out.
"Have you another match?" asked Norton.
Like Billy's, his voice was husky. A vague dread seemed to seize him, weighing down upon him like a tangible thing.
"Yes," said Alec. "Here's one more—-the last."
Again he struck a light and a hasty search was made. Every moment was precious.
In vain. The cabin was empty.