for him later," Willy Cameron said,
grimly. "Just at this minute I'm waiting to be shown."

They advanced with infinite caution, for the evening was still light.
Going slowly, it was well after eight and fairly dark before they came
within sight of the farm buildings in the valley below. Long unpainted,
they were barely discernable in the shadows of the hills. The land
around had been carefully cleared, and both men were dismayed at the
difficulty of access without being seen.

"Doesn't look very good, does it?" Pink observed. "I will say this, for
seclusion and keeping away unwanted visitors, it has it all over any
dug-out I ever saw in France."

"Listen!" Willy Cameron said, tensely.

They stood on the alert, but only the evening sounds of country and
forest rewarded them.

"What was it?" Pink inquired, after perhaps two minutes of waiting.

"Plain scare on my part, probably. I don't so much mind this little
excursion, Pink, as I hate the idea that a certain gentleman named
Cusick may have a chance to come to our funerals and laugh himself to
death."

When real darkness had fallen, they had reached the lower fringe of the
woods. Pink had the fault of the city dweller, however, of being unable
to step lightly in the dark, and their progress had been less silent
than it should have been. In spite of his handicap, Willy Cameron made
his way with the instinctive knowledge of the country bred boy, treading
like a cat.

"Pretty poor," Pink said in a discouraged whisper, after a twig had
burst under his foot with a report like the shot of a pistol. "You
travel like a spook, while I--"

"Listen, Pink. I'm going in alone to look around. Stop muttering and
listen to me. It's poor strategy not to have a reserve somewhere, isn't
it?"

"I'm a poor prune at the best," Pink said stubbornly, "but I am not
going to let you go into that place alone. You can rave all you want."

"Very well. Then we'll both stay here. You are about as quiet as a horse
going through a corn patch."

After some moments Pink spoke again.

"If you insist on stealing the whole show," he said, sulkily, "what am I
to do? Run to town for help, if you need it?"

"I'm not going to round up the outfit, if there is one. I haven't lost
my mind. I'll see what is going on, or about to go on. Then I'll come
back."

"Here?"

Cameron considered.

"Better meet at the machine," he decided, after a glance at the sky. "In
half an hour you won't be able