ten o'clock at night
did n't you hear it , fellows ? What was that sound ? '' The four boys stood , as Joe asked this question , almost holding their breath with awe , while no doubt their hearts pounded away like so many trip-hammers . It was after ten o'clock at night , and the town of Stanhope , nestling on the bank of the Bushkill , usually closed its business doors by nine , save on Saturdays . This being the case , it was naturally very quiet on Anderson street , even though electric lights and people abounded on Broad street , the main thoroughfare , just around the corner . These lads belonged to a troop of Boy Scouts that had been organized the preceding summer . They wore the regular khaki suits that always distinguish members of the far-reaching organization , and one of them even carried a bugle at his side .