"Growler, growler," said Harry Girdwood. "Why, I call these famous diggings, after that hole they meant us to rest in while the worms made meat of us. Besides, we must get away."
"How?"
"Escape."
Young Jack looked up at the word, and his heart beat a little quicker.
But he said nothing.
Frowning walls on every side.
The cell was fully eighteen feet high, and the window was close up by the ceiling.
"If we want to get out of this," said young Jack, "we must begin operations from this moment."
"Good."
"Do you know, Harry, what is to be the first step?"