“I sure heard something answer that last yell,” Wee Willie affirmed, stubbornly; “but then it may only have been an owl up in some old dead treetop; or a cawing crow some distance away.”
“How long ought we keep this thing up, Elmer?” inquired Amos.
“Not more than another half hour,” came the reply.
“And if nothing happens then?”
“We’ll have to start out and try to locate Perk,” he was told.
“I saw him leave camp, and he went that way,” with which Amos pointed to a certain quarter; at which Wee Willie nodded, and hastened to add:
“Yes, I was telling Elmer here I saw him walk away, and he went in the direction of the east, which wasn’t toward the river at all. I don’t know how it came I seemed to take it for granted Perk was going fishing; must have had something on my mind at the time, and didn’t notice that he hadn’t his rod along. What makes things worse is that storm!”
“Storm!” echoed Amos, staring around; “why, it’s as blue as indigo overhead right now; where’s your storm, Wee Willie?”
“We seem to feel one coming in our bones,” explained the other. “Sometimes, you know you can tell that one’s due by certain signs. And if you look sharp you’ll see clouds gathering over in the southwest; which is the quarter most of our big summer storms spring from.”
Amos did look, and then shook his head as if dismayed at the prospect.