At a rustling in a near-by willow, Terry Jordan started and then cursed softly to himself.

That broke the spell.
"It's the whisperin' of the willows," said Purvis.
"You lie," said Silent hoarsely.

"I hear the sound growing closer." "Barry is dead," said Haines.
Silent whipped out his revolver--and then shoved it back into the holster.
"Stand by me, boys," he pleaded.

"It's his ghost come to haunt me! You can't hear it, because he ain't come for you." They stared at him with a fascinated horror.
"How do you know it's him ?" asked Shorty Rhinehart.
"There ain't no sound in the whole world like it.

It's a sort of cross between the singing of a bird an' the wailin' of the wind.