They both paused and studied the gently swaying masses of corn, and behind them the looming woods, sinister with possible secrets.
"Well," said old Peter.
The major moved uneasily and put his hand to his brow. Peter waited in obvious expectation.
The major crossed through the grass at the roadside and climbed the fence. He put both legs over the topmost rail and then sat perched there, facing the woods. Once he turned his head and asked, "What?"
"I hain't said anythin'," answered Peter.
The major clambered down from the fence and went slowly into the corn, his gun held in readiness. Peter stood in the road.
Presently the major returned and said, in a cautious whisper: "If yeh hear anythin', you come a-runnin', will yeh?"
"Well, I hain't got no gun nor nuthin'," said Peter, in the same low tone; "what good 'ud I do?"
"Well, yeh might come along with me an' watch," said the major. "Four eyes is better'n two."
"If I had a gun—" began Peter.