“Maybe so, Tim. Ve vill see abouid dot, anyhow.”
So they followed the party of redcoats, keeping about two hundred yards behind them, and after a walk of about a mile and a half, they paused at the edge of a clearing of perhaps a hundred acres, and at the farther side could be seen the houses of the settlers.
What struck Tim and Fritz as queer was the fact that they could not see any lights in any of the houses, and this fact may have been noticed by the redcoats, for they hastened forward at a swifter pace.
“Looks loike there ain’t any people at home, Dootchy,” said Tim.
“Dot is der vay id loogs to me, Tim,” was the reply.
“Oi hope thot is the case.”
“Yah, so do I.”
Feeling that they would be safe in doing so, Tim and Fritz followed the redcoats, though staying farther behind than when they were in the timber, for even in the dusk they were more likely to be seen out here in the open. The redcoats had their attention centered on the cluster of houses, however, and were not likely to look behind them, so the two felt that they probably would not be seen.
They were not more than a hundred yards behind the redcoats when the latter reached the houses. Tim and Fritz stopped and now lay down on the ground, and watched and listened.
They saw lights appear in the houses presently, and heard the voices of the redcoats raised in tones of seeming anger. Tim chuckled and said: