It wasn't very long before this advice was followed. They rolled themselves in blankets and selected the most comfortable places they could find. Conversation began to lag and soon stopped altogether.
Several hours must have passed, when Dave Brandon, turning over in an instant of wakefulness, caught through his half-closed eyes the vision of a dark form blurred against an open window.
With a startled exclamation, he hastily threw aside his blanket and sat up.
"That you, Dave?" Bob Somers' low whisper reached him. "Come on over."
The stout boy rubbed his eyes, grinned cheerfully at the recollection of his scare, and quietly arose.
None of the sleepers budged as he carefully stepped around them. One of the lamps had gone out, and the dim yellow rays of the other failed to penetrate into the far corners of the room.
"Well, Bob?" queried Dave.
"The biggest rat in Washington awakened me," grinned Bob; "heard a loud scampering, and raised up just in time to get a good look at him—a whopper! See anything, Dave?"
Brandon poked his head out in the fresh, crisp air, and gave an exclamation.
Rising in the east, over a range of rugged hills, the moon hung in a deep, somber sky. A tree top rose against its dull, golden surface, but everything else in the vast expanse of nature seemed dim and formless. Barns, sheds and corrals made mysterious, irregular patches, even the white walls but faintly seen against the darkened turf. A screaming hawk passed swiftly across the star-studded sky.