"Come on out and try your luck!" he called to Frank.
There was no answer from the tent.
"Come on out! It's too nice to sleep!" Fenn shouted again. He fired at
the target, and made a bull's-eye, much to his surprise and delight. "I
say, Frank!" he shouted. "Come on, I can beat you all to pieces!"
He ran to the tent and lifted up the flap. He expected to see Frank
stretched out on one of the cots, but what was his astonishment to learn
that the canvas house was empty. There was no sign of Frank, and none of
the cots showed any signs of having been used since they were made up
that morning.
"That's queer, I didn't see him come out, and I was in front of the tent
all the while," said Fenn. "He must have slipped past when I was hunting
for that little screw I dropped."
He felt a vague sense of uneasiness, for, though he tried to make himself
believe that Frank had come out unnoticed by him, he was not as sure of
it as he desired to be. He moved toward the back part of the tent, and
saw something that caused him to utter an exclamation.
For there, plainly to be seen in the dirt floor of the tent, were marks,
showing where someone had crawled out under the rear wall of canvas.
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