Grant sat up, muttered to himself, and hastily pulled on some clothes.

The frog cut himself short in the middle of a deep-throated ARR-RR-UMPH and dove headlong into the pond; and the splash of his body cleaving the still surface of the water made Gene shiver nervously.

Grant reached under his pillow for something, and freed himself stealthily from a blanketfold.
"If that spook don't talk Indian when it's at home, I'm very much mistaken," he whispered to Clark, who was nearest.

"You boys stay here." Since they had no intention of doing anything else, they obeyed him implicitly and without argument, especially as a flitting white figure appeared briefly and indistinctly in a shadow-flecked patch of moonlight.

Crouching low in the shade of a clump of bushes, Grant stole toward the spot.
When he reached the place, the thing was not there.