"What the man on the clubhouse steps said is a secret, and I'm not going to tell you, just yet, anyway.

Some day I'll tell you." So Harry Hazelton started the ball rolling with a story.

When it was finished Greg rose and went to the window at the rear of the cabin.
"I can't see any lights in the shack," he called back.

"I guess Fits must have turned in." "I wish we had something better than glass windows between that scoundrel and ourselves," muttered Hazelton.

"After we're asleep all Fits would have to do would be to smash a light of glass and jump right in here on us.