Just then the noise sounded again. It certainly was a groan.

"There!" exclaimed Janet. "I _know_ it's an Indian, Ted! Maybe it's
one of the kind that took Uncle Frank's ponies. Oh, please come!"

She had run on a little way from the pile of rocks, but now she
stood still, waiting for Teddy to follow.

"Come on!" she begged.

Janet did not want to go alone.

"It can't be an Indian," said Teddy, looking around but still not
seeing anything to make that strange sound.

"It could so be an Indian!" declared Janet.

"Well, maybe a sick Indian," Teddy admitted. "And if he's as sick as
all that I'm not afraid of him! I'm going to see what it is."

"Oh, The-o-dore Mar-tin!" cried Janet, much as she sometimes heard
her mother use her brother's name. "Don't you dare!"

"Why not?" asked Teddy, who tried to speak very bravely, though he
really did not feel brave. But he was not going to show that before
Janet, who was a girl. "Why can't I see what that is?"

"'Cause maybe--maybe it'll--bite you!" and as Janet said this she
looked first at the rocks and then over her shoulder, as though
something might come up behind her when she least expected it.