When he and Bandy-legs had advanced a certain distance Max stopped and imitated the call of a screech-owl, so like the whinny of a horse.  It ended up with a peculiar twist, and it was this that would tell any of the other fellows the sound was intended for a signal, and did not proceed from the real bird itself.

An answer quickly came.  Then a couple of dim forms hove in sight, being Steve and his fellow vidette, ready to hand over the guns to their successors, and seek the shelter of the cabin for a little rest.

“Listen, Max,” said Steve, while this exchange was taking place, “there’s something queer out yonder aways; and I want you to try and make out what it can mean.”

“How is that?” demanded the other.

“Why, every little while we thought we could hear a distant strange cry like somebody in pain.  Of course it might come from a night-bird that we don’t happen to be acquainted with; but it’s been worrying us a heap.  I’m afraid, though, the wind has shifted latterly, because we didn’t seem to catch it so well.”

Max hardly knew what to think of what Steve had told him; nevertheless, he promised the other he and Toby would listen for all they were worth, and see if they might have any better success in recognizing the strange sounds.

But the minutes drifted along, and at no time were they able to catch anything out of the common; so, finally, they decided that either it must have been a night-bird that had flown away, or else that change in the wind had kept the sounds from coming to their ears.

CHAPTER XV

STEVE’S DREAM COMES TRUE

“Did you hear anything, Max?”

That was the very first thing Steve asked on the following morning, when he poked his head out of his “hole in the wall” like a shrewd old tortoise looking around to learn if the coast were clear.

“We listened from time to time,” explained Max, “but were never sure that we heard any strange sound.  It seems that you must have been impressed with it considerably, Steve, to have it on your mind so?”

“I was, Max, and I am right now,” admitted the other, frankly.  “Listen to me, while the rest are busy getting breakfast ready over at the fire,”, and his voice sank to a confidential whisper.  “I had a dream.  It wasn’t so queer that it should come to me, after all that’s happened.  I dreamed that we came on that bad cousin of Roland’s, Robert Chase.  He’d fallen over a precipice, and was dying there on the rocks.  Oh! it was horribly real, Max, and I woke up shivering.  He was sorry, too, because he had been so wicked, and was asking Roland to please forgive him.  And, Max, I’ve been wondering whether that dream mightn’t have come to me to let us know we might do a good deed if we walked out that way this morning, you and me, saying nothing to the rest of the boys.”

Max was struck by the thought that Steve must have had a pretty vivid dream to make him so tender-hearted.  At the same time, he felt in accord with the sentiments so aptly expressed by the other.