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"A brilliant piece of work, sir," cried Nelson. "No, I don't either, I mean his and Scroggie's game; of course Scroggie's behind him." Five minutes later the trio were out on the forest path, passing in Indian file towards the haunted grove. The wind had risen and now swept through the great trees with ghostly sound. A black cloud, creeping up out of the west, was wiping out the stars. Throughout the forest the notes of the night-prowlers were strangely hushed. No word was spoken between the treasure-seekers until the elm-bridged creek was reached. Then old Harry paused, with labored breath, his head bent as though listening..
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The horse reached forward his long muzzle and lipped one of the boy's ears. "Say horses don't understand!" grinned Maurice. "Gee! I guess maybe they do understand, though." "Fine; keepin' up as well as though you saw right where you're goin'. They're only a little ahead now." "Teacher," he cried in surprise, "you here?" "Yes, sir," answered Captain Weaver, "I took notice of him on the fok'sle.".
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