These did not travel in one easterly direction as did those other scudding, wind-driven night wraiths.

They climbed straight across the wind to a bare level which they crossed, then swerved to the north, dipped into a black hollow and emerged, swinging back toward the south.

A mile away a light twinkled steadily--the light before which Johnny Jewel was bending his brown, deeply cogitating head while he drew carefully the sketch of his new airplane's tail, using the back of a steel table knife for a rule and guessing at the general proportions.
"Midnight an' after--and he's still up and at it," chuckled one of the dim shapes, waving an arm toward the light.

"Must a took it into the shack with 'm!" Another one laughed rather loudly.

Too loudly for a thief who did not feel perfectly secure in his thieving.
"Betcher we c'ud taken his saddle hoss out the pen an' ride 'im off, and he wouldn't miss 'im till he jest happened to look down and see where his boots was wore through the bottom hoofin' it!" continued the speaker contentedly.