Then Andy knew that Nature had won out, for he could catch the regular
breathing of the stout farmhand, and from this judged that Felix must be
sound asleep.
From where Andy sat he had a fine view of the field on all sides of the
broken hydroplane, and especially in that quarter toward the fence,
beyond which the road leading to Bloomsbury lay.
He kept up a constant watch, never relaxing his vigilance for a single
second, for Andy knew that while one might be on guard for fifty-nine
minutes, if he relaxed just for a breath, that was almost sure to be the
time when something would happen. How often he had proved that when
fishing, and taking his eye from his float just to glance up at some
passing bird, when down it would bob, and he had missed a chance to hook
a finny prize.
The time passed on.
Three separate times did Andy look at his little dollar nickel watch,
and in the bright moonlight he could see that it was now after eleven.
He was beginning to believe that if there was anything doing that night,
it must come about very soon, when he thought he heard a sound down the
road that made him think a car that had been coming along had stopped
short.
Thrilled with the expectation that a change was about to occur, he sat
up a little more eagerly, and continued to scan the line of fence, as
well as the field lying between the road and the helpless hydroplane.
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