Chapter XII A Night AlarmMary Nestor spoke with such earnestness, and her action in catching hold of Tom's arm to enjoin silence was so pronounced that, though he had at first regarded the matter in the light of a joke, he soon thought otherwise. He glanced from the girl's face to the dense underbrush on either side of the woodland path.
"What is it, Mary?" he asked in a whisper.
"I don't just know. I heard whispering, and thought it was the rustling of the leaves of the trees. Then someone spoke your name quite loudly. Didn't you hear it?"
Tom shook his head in negation.
"It may be Ned and his friend," he whispered, his lips close to Mary's ear.
"I think not," was her answer. "Listen; there it is again."
Distinctly then, Tom heard, from some opening in the screen of bushes, his own
