“We’re getting in close now,” whispered Ethan; “I thought I heard a cough, then.”
“That’s right, and I can see the fire beyond that thick bunch of pines,” was what the other replied, in the same low tone.
Still advancing cautiously they gradually reached a spot where they were able to look in on the rival camp. The fire was burning, but things seemed to be rather quiet. At least the two scouts failed to discover any furious rushing to and fro that would indicate excitement and alarm.
“Looks peaceful enough, Phil, doesn’t it?” whispered Ethan, in rather a disappointed fashion, that would indicate he had felt hopeful the services of his chum might be needed, and that they could thus heap coals of fire on the head of the boastful and vindictive Mr. James Bodman, millionaire sportsman.
“There’s one of the guides near the fire,” remarked Phil.
“Yes, and he seems to be rather upset over something,” pursued Ethan; “notice how he keeps on looking to the right and to the left. See him start to hold up his hands then, will you? What in the wide world can have been going on over here?”
“Seems like a mystery,” admitted Phil, still staring at the vicinity of the camp fire where only that one guide was visible.
“Where d’ye suppose the others all are?” ventured Ethan, keeping his voice down to the lowest possible pitch, although there did not seem to be any reason for such caution.
“I suppose in those two shacks we see,” came the hesitating answer; and then the other heard Phil give a little gasp.
“You’ve discovered something; what is it?” Ethan asked, eagerly.