“Oh, come on!” called some of his companions. “There’s lots to be done yet before we get this lantern finished. And if we want any rich pickings we’ll have to hustle for ’em. The weather looks like it was going to break, and that will be just what we want. Come on, Hemp.”
“All right, I will, only don’t talk so bold and free.”
“Why not?”
“Because some one might be spying and listening to us.”
“He’s got that on his mind yet,” laughed one of the men. “There’s no one around here.”
“And if they were, what could they pick up?” demanded another.
“That’s all right—it’s best to be careful,” said the one called Hemp Danforth. “I’m taking no chances. Some of us might—well, no telling what might happen to us if we was to be found out.”
“Don’t talk that way,” spoke a tall, thin man. “It isn’t altogether cheerful—especially with what work we have on hand. Come on, now; let’s make this pillar a little higher, and the light will show better.”
“Say, what do you imagine they are doing?” whispered Joe. “It’s a queer game, Blake.”
“It sure is. I’ve about made up my mind what they are up to, and yet I may be wrong. Let’s wait here a while longer, and maybe we can pick up some information that will give us a better clue.”