“Was there no way of signalling out of that window?” asked Don, nodding to one of the two in the room.
“They are all too high,” answered the colonel. “I would have tried if—Listen!”
Footsteps were heard on the floor below and then a shrill whistle rang out. Someone shouted something. The colonel jumped up.
“They have discovered that you are gone!” he cried. “I must hide you at once, and I have just the place. I’m sure these fellows don’t know of it, and I’ll risk it. Come here.”
He led the way to the other side of the room to where a dusty map hung. Brushing this to one side he disclosed the opening of a ventilator with a black iron frame. He thrust his fingers into the openings in the frame and pulled the iron work out.
“Here,” gasped the colonel. “Get into that hole. It doesn’t go very far, but it will hold you all right. Don’t make a sound.”
The opening was large enough for Don to get his body into, an awkward job, as he went in backward. The passage of what had once been an air-shaft extended back for a distance of about seven feet, and he lay flat on his stomach, finding plenty of room in the shaft. The colonel replaced the grating, dropped the map into place and hurried back to the center of the room, where he picked up his paper and sat down, pretending to read.
The noise downstairs continued and in a few minutes someone could be heard running up the stairs. A shout was raised outside the colonel’s door.
“The boy is in with the colonel!” Dan’s voice shouted.
Others ran up the stairs and the old man, Dan and Major Tireson rushed into the room. The colonel jumped to his feet, the picture of alarm as he faced his captors.