"We'll have to crawl across the grass," Frank whispered. "Ready?"
"I'm ready."
"Go easy and quiet. If you hear a sound, don't move."
They dropped to their hands and knees, then left the shadow of the wood. They began to crawl slowly toward the willow tree at the rear of the mill.
Inch by inch they made their way forward.
The moon was high in the sky and seemed like a giant searchlight. It seemed impossible that they could cross that open space without being discovered. Every blade of grass seemed clearly revealed by the moonlight.
When they were about half way toward the mill they heard a sound in the distance.
It was the banging of a heavy door.
There was a warning whisper from Frank. They lay motionless in the thick grass.
For a moment a deep silence prevailed. Then, from the mill, they heard a surly voice:
"I saw some one out on the hillside."
They were startled. But still they did not move. Their only hope of safety lay in silence and in remaining motionless.
"You're crazy, Markel," replied some one. "There's no one out there."
