“Keep quiet,” advised Jerry. “We’ll walk on down the road, as if we didn’t care what he did. Then we’ll circle back and sneak up to the barn. Maybe we can find out something about him. Strike up a song, so he’ll think we’re what we pretend to be.” They began humming the chorus of one of the songs they had sung in the minstrel show, and so passed on down the road. There was a moon, and the movements of the crooked-nosed man could easily be observed. He struck off across the vacant lots toward the barn, not even looking back at the singing boys, who did, indeed, have the appearance of negroes. Proceeding far enough beyond a turn of the road to be hidden from sight, Ned, Bob, and Jerry waited a few minutes, and then turned back. This time they did not sing, and they talked only in whispers. Cautiously they approached the barn, looking for any sign of a light or any movement that would indicate the presence of the mysterious man or of a person who had come there to meet him, or with whom he had expected to keep a rendezvous. “‘All quiet along the Potomac,’” quoted Bob, in a low voice. “Well, have it quiet here, too,” whispered Jerry. “We may discover something, and we may not. But there’s no use in giving ourselves away. He may get angry if he finds we’re not what we seem to be, and knows that we’ve been following him. Go easy now!” The young soldiers finally stood in the shadow of the barn and listened intently. At first they heard nothing but the rattle and flap of some loose pieces of wood. “He’s gone!” murmured Ned. “Listen!” advised Jerry. Even as he spoke they all heard the low murmur of voices. And the voices were those of men. “We’ve got to get nearer, where we can hear better,” whispered Jerry to his chums. “It’s around this way.” He led the way to the side of the barn that was in the deepest shadow, and presently they came to a stop below a small window. The glass had been broken out of it, and through the aperture came the tones of the voices more distinctly. One said: “When did he say he was coming?” “He promised to be here to-night,” was the answer. Of course the boys, not having heard the crooked-nosed man’s voice, did not know which was his, nor which was his companion’s. “To-night; eh?” came in sharp tones. “Well, he didn’t come, and you tell him I want to see him, and see him bad. I’m tired of hanging around here without any money, and I’m working like a dog on that farm.” “That’s Crooked Nose,” whispered Bob. “Yes,” agreed Jerry. “Well, I’ll tell him,” said the other voice. “I don’t know what’s got into him lately. But he and Pug have some game on and----” The voice died out into an indistinguishable murmur. “Did you hear that?” demanded Ned, and his voice was so sharp that Jerry clapped a hand over his friend’s lips. “Quiet!” he cautioned. They listened, but the voices were no longer heard. Instead came the sound of feet tramping on bare boards. “They’re going away,” murmured Bob.