“I tell you we did,” exclaimed Fred earnestly. “Pop and I will both swear to it; we saw one in the swamp over here. Of course we can’t guarantee that he’ll still be there when you slowpokes arrive.”
“That’s right,” chimed in George. “We certainly did see one not five minutes before we came back to the dock to tell you about it. I don’t see why you need be so suspicious about it.”
“Well, I wouldn’t trust you two,” said Grant. “You’ve acted sort of funny about it too.”
“You only think we have,” retorted Fred. “Careful now, the marsh is just ahead of us.”
“Why don’t we sneak up behind those bushes?” suggested George, pointing to a clump of elderberries a few yards in front of them.
“That’s a good scheme,” exclaimed Fred. “We can hide behind them and get a good view of the marsh without being seen ourselves.”
Stealthily the four boys made their way until they reached the spot George had designated. On the other side of the bushes and extending for a hundred yards or so was the swamp where the heron was reported to have been seen.
“Careful now,” whispered Fred as they crouched behind the clump of elderberry bushes. “We don’t want to scare him away.”
“If he’s still there,” muttered Grant. He had been suspicious of Fred and George; their manner had seemed somewhat peculiar to him but they were serious enough now and his doubts were removed.
“Do you see him?” asked John eagerly, as Fred peered out through an opening in the bushes.