He stooped down and calmly
selected a certain blazing brand from the fire. This was of such a
nature that when properly handled it could be made to serve as a
pretty fair torch.
When Bud saw what the patrol leader was doing, he grunted and
nodded his head as though comprehending things. Bud always could
"see through a mill-stone that had a hole in it," as he was accustomed
to say; in so many words, he was quick to grasp things after some
smarter fellow had blazed the way. A "hint was as good as a nod"
to Bud.
"Fine thing, Hugh!" he commented admiringly. He realized how valuable
such a light might prove under the circumstances.
Ralph removed the piece of board that served to hold the door shut,
and boldly led the way outside. The others pressed closely at his
heels, Hugh holding the spluttering torch above his head and Bud
gripping his club with the full intention of using it should the
occasion warrant such action.
All was dark and still without. The night wind moaned in the branches
of the trees where the leaves had fallen, or rustled the brown foliage
of the oaks; but they could see no hostile form.
"Oh! he skipped out, all right, sure he did!" declared Bud, with
something like a sneer in his voice.
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