It came ashore at the extreme end of the curve, and, after a moment of intent listening, the voyagers crept up the sand, and in whispers discussed the next effort of their escape.

The belts were unstrapped from about the log, reloaded with cartridges, and buckled around dripping waists before they clambered cautiously up the low bank.

The road was just beyond, but between them and it arose the almost shapeless form of a small house, a mere darker shadow in the gloom of the night.
"Where are we ?" questioned Westcott.
"Just back of old Beecher's shack.

He's trucking down Benson way, but is liable to have some grub stored inside.

I was countin' on this for our commissary department.