It was a whistle, low and penetrating, and would seem to have risen from the wood beyond the stream.
I noticed that Tommy was alert and listening.
"Whoo—ee."
Again it rose, with something of caution in its tone, but a spice of daring in the higher note of its conclusion.
I watched Tommy, idly, with half-closed eyes.
He was performing a rapid toilet.
Presently he looked up at me from his shoe-laces.
"I taught her that whistle," he observed, complacently.
"Whom?" I asked.