“I saw him slide down a rope from Pete Black’s room,” remarked Bert Wilson, “and then I noticed that he sneaked off by himself.”
“Let him go,” suggested Tom. “We’re better off without him.”
“Unless he’s going to squeal on us,” came from Jack, suddenly.
[CHAPTER XXII]
THE BURNING EFFIGY
“That’s so!” exclaimed Tom, after a moment’s consideration. “I never thought of that. It would be just like Sam. Oh, but what’s the use worrying, anyhow? They’ll know, sooner or later, that we’ve escaped, and anything that sneak Heller can tell them won’t do us any harm. Come on to town.”
They headed into the storm, which seemed to become worse every minute, with the wind whipping the stinging flakes into the faces of the lads, who bent to the blast.
“I say!” cried Horace Gerth. “This is fierce!”
“The worst ever!” cried Jack.