As time passed slowly on, bringing no sound of footsteps, and twinkling stars appeared in the dark and colorless sky, the lads found it increasingly difficult to keep up the mask of cheerfulness.
“There’s one thing pretty certain,” remarked Dave: “if Bob has gone anywhere among those hills there’s not much chance of our seeing him again to-night.”
Outside, a fitful wind rustled the grass. From the gently swaying branches of a tree close by came a musical sighing. Walking to the door Tom looked out upon a field of darkness so intense that nothing beyond a few feet could be distinguished.
“Whew, how black!” he exclaimed. “Let’s get some more lanterns, fellows.”
“Going to illuminate the prairie?” inquired Larry.
“No; but we’ll make the windows shine so brightly that if Bob should happen to be out in the open he’d see the beacon for miles.”
The boys hustled around, soon finding three lanterns in a closet. These were lighted, carried to adjoining rooms and placed on the window sills.
“Now, for the present, there is nothing to do but wait,” exclaimed Dave.
After a while Thunderbolt and Tom went outside and led the horses to the stable, then rejoined the disconsolate-looking Ramblers, who were either lounging or walking about the big room. The light from the lamp failed to clear away entirely the gloom which hovered over the corners, and every movement of the lads sent odd-shaped shadows traveling fantastically across the floor or walls.
At last Dave picked up his blanket.