“I’m going to slit it,” says he, “and as soon as I cut, you, Mr. Dunn, be right here to crawl through. Now.”
Mr. Dunn got through on his hands and knees, and then Mr. House and then me. Catty came last.
“It’s darker than a stack of black cats, thank goodness,” Catty whispered. “Take hold of hands so we don’t lose each other, and follow me. Crouch down.... Say, if you can’t crouch better than that, Mr. Dunn, get down on your hands and knees.”
“Young man,” says Mr. Dunn, “when you get to weigh what I do, you won’t think it’s so easy to crouch.”
“You got to crouch.... This way.... Drop!”
We all dropped flat and lay still, for there was a man coming, and he walked past so close I could almost touch him. But he didn’t see us, and my heart started to beat again. It missed about fifty ticks, I guess, and how in the world I’m ever going to get them back, I don’t know.
For a couple of minutes we lay as still as logs, and then Catty stirred us up again. “Come on,” says he.
“How about the barb wire?” says I.
“We’ll cross the wire when we get to it,” says he.
“I can see Mr. Dunn straddling over his own entanglement,” says I. “I’ll bet he’ll wish he hadn’t put it up.”