“It’s no use, Mr. Wilson,” said the monitor, quietly. “The door is locked, and you can’t go out unless you break out. And it’s a very strong door,” he added, significantly.
With a gesture of impatience Bert turned toward a window. To his surprise he noted that the usual fastenings had been replaced by new ones, and, in addition, the casements were screwed down. Then, to the astonishment of the boys, who had not noticed it before, they became aware that bars of wood had been screwed in place across the outside of the frames.
“By Jove! They have us boxed in, all right!” cried Tom, as his attention was called to the precautions taken to keep the lads in Opus Manor. “This is what they were doing last night when we were having our fun. I’ve no doubt but that the spy came into the hall to see if we were likely to stay up there eating, while they got in their fine work. Oh, but we were chumps not to think of this!”
“No one would,” said Jack Fitch. “I say, though, I believe if we all go together we can break out. We can handle Blackford!”
Tom shook his head. He did not intend to submit quietly, but he knew better than to act before he had a good plan.
At that moment several of the men monitors from the other dormitories were seen in the lower hall, and one or two were at a rear door.
“They’re prepared to meet force with force,” said Tom to his chums. “Just wait a bit, and there may be something doing. Meanwhile, eat your grub.”
“Hot grub this!” exclaimed Jack. “I wish we’d saved some from last night. Any left, Tom?”
“Not a crumb. Never mind, this is good for a change,” and Tom proceeded to munch the dry bread, and sip the water.