“H-h-hold on!” stuttered Larry. “Do you w-w-want to get shot? S-s-somebody may be h-h-hiding among those trees!”
“Then let’s find ’em!” yelled Tom, valiantly.
The lads, their eyes sparkling with excitement, dashed from point to point of the big enclosure, Larry dragging along unwillingly at the rear. Now they were by the deep shadows of the cedars; then close to the graceful columns of the little Greek temple, only halting a moment at a time to satisfy themselves that no other human beings were near.
“And yet,” said Bob Somers, voicing the thoughts of all, “those sounds were right close to the house.”
“They certainly were,” stammered Larry.
“I think men have time to get out of stockade,” declared Thunderbolt.
This reasoning seemed to be correct. The search was carried on with unabated vigor. But their eager eyes, now turned toward the immediate surroundings of the enclosure, failed to detect any signs of life.
“What—what’s to be done?” cried Larry.
“Let’s try to think it out,” suggested Tom.
“We’ve gone over almost every possible theory,” said Dave, wearily. “It’s uncommonly exasperating.”