Pretty soon we were all fixed for the night. We made those Newburgh scouts sleep under our balloon silk shelter. They didn’t want to, but we told them we’d like to sleep in the open for a change. I guess I must have been asleep for an hour or so, when all of a sudden I was awake again. Anyway, it couldn’t have been more than an hour, because the wood from our fire was still warm. It was awful nice and dark and quiet. There wasn’t any sound at all, except a cricket. Pretty soon I could hear the whistle of a train very far away; I guess it was way over at the Hudson. I just lay there kind of thinking and wondering what made me wake up. Because, oh boy, I’m usually dead to the world when I sleep outdoors. All of a sudden I saw a little light not very far away, in among the trees. As soon as I saw it it went out, and then it came again. First I thought it was a fire fly. Then I knew it couldn’t be—it was too big. Then I saw it steady for about a minute and then it went out. I sat up and just stared at the spot where I had seen it and I didn’t make a sound. I wasn’t exactly scared, but I wondered what it could be. Then I crept away and started over that way in the dark. I wasn’t scared, but I was kind of nervous, sort of. ----- [1] Balsam is used for making beds. CHAPTER XXV IN THE DARK Just then I heard a rustle and I could see a black form quite near. I saw it move behind a tree. “Who’s there?” I said; but there wasn’t any answer. I stopped for two or three seconds, because I didn’t know just what to do, then I walked up to the tree and just as I came near, the form stepped out from behind it. Then I heard a voice say, “What do _you_ want here?” I said, very surprised, “Dorry? Is it you?” He said, “What do _you_ want here?” “I don’t want anything,” I said; “I just saw a light and I came to see what it was. What’s the matter?” He said, “Nothing, I’m going to bed.” “Did you have the light?” I asked him. “Maybe you only saw it same as I did. Only you act awful funny, sort of.” He said, “I’ve got as much right to be up as you have. Nobody can sleep on that hard ground.” “Why didn’t you dig a hollow for your hip?” I asked him, “same as I do. Hard ground will never keep a fellow awake. It’s your hip. Gee, you’re a scout; you ought to know that.” “Come on back,” he said. I don’t know, but something about the way he acted made me feel sort of funny—suspicious, kind of. I said, “Were you hunting for something with your flashlight? What’s the matter? Why don’t you tell me what you came out for?” “There isn’t any reason, and why should I tell you anyway?” he said. “Well,” I said, “because I’m your patrol leader for one thing. And as long as Mr. Ellsworth isn’t here, I have a right to ask you. I’m not mad. Only I wonder why you got up and came away, that’s all. Anyway, I got a splinter in my finger grabbing one of these trees, I know that.”