The most dangerous part of a nighttime stroll through the dog breeding grounds was using a tiny flashlight to spot the puddles and mud underfoot, avoiding a slip and injury.
If there was anything eerie about it, it was only the nighttime wind combined with the rustling of leaves and weeds, which sounded a little frightening.
In short, the two little girls screamed their heads off, while old Katharine Hepburn displayed gallant masculine courage and protected the two girls. It might not have been a genuine display of their true selves, but they were certainly having a blast. Just as the saying went: life was all about acting.
Only Quicksilver seemed rather uninterested, because he knew what had happened at the dog breeding grounds before. If there had been anything genuinely scary left behind, just as he had told Henry, he would have given up resisting.
Henry did not deliberately play tricks to scare anyone, either. There was a ninety-six-year-old elder here. If he frightened her into something happening, how long would he feel guilty about it?
Still, fooling around at night made it much easier to sleep that day.
The camper Henry rented could sleep four to six people, with another bed directly above the driver's seat. Yet he and Quicksilver still went up to the roof, set up a mosquito net, drank beer, and chatted nonsense.
Although alcohol did nothing for either of the two drinkers, once one person started bragging and the other joined in, they could talk for three days and nights without stopping. As long as men were on the same wavelength, they could be happy talking about anything.
Fortunately, they remembered that they had to drive the next day. Otherwise, they really would have stayed up all night competing to see who could talk