"Hello, fellows," was the greeting that came from one of the
newcomers, as they came into the flickering light of the street
lamp, near which Frank Sheldon and Bart Raymond were standing.
"This is a dandy night to be out patrolling--I don't think."
"A good night for ducks, Tom," replied Frank with a laugh.
"For polar bears, if you ask me," put in Billy Waldon, Tom's
companion, as he shook the drops from his raincoat. "How would it
be to be back in the barracks just now lapping up a smoking hot
cup of coffee? Oh, boy!"
"It wouldn't be bad--" Bart was beginning, when suddenly a rifle
cracked and a bullet whizzed by so close that it nearly grazed Tom
Bradford's ear.
"Shelter, fellows!" shouted Frank, as he leaped for an adjacent
hallway.
His companions followed him quickly, and crouching in the hall,
they peered out into the darkness to see if they could detect the
whereabouts of the would-be assassin.
But everything was quiet except for the roaring of the gale, and
the street seemed to be empty.
"Might as well look for a needle in a haystack," muttered Tom
Bradford.
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