“I wish we had some gasoline,” Jack muttered. “That would send her up in a flash.”
Mr. Livingston instructed Jack to set a series of fires in the straw along the back wall.
Swiftly, they both worked. Once they were assured that the empty building was well afire, they crept through the darkness toward the rear of the guarded prison hut.
For awhile, nothing happened. Then as the roof straw began to blaze, the attention of one of the guards suddenly was attracted. With a wild yell, he alerted his companion.
Leaving the other alone to guard the hut, he rushed toward the flaming building.
“This is our only chance!” Mr. Livingston whispered. “Now!”
He and Jack crept through the darkness. The guard did not hear nor see them, for his eyes were upon the blazing hut some distance away.
Before he was aware of danger, the two were upon him. They tackled hard, and with only a grunt of surprise, he went down.
Mr. Livingston wrested the gun from his hand, while Jack seized the knife. A handkerchief was stuffed into his mouth.
Leaving Mr. Livingston to hold the guard at bay with his own weapon, Jack rushed into the hut. Rhodes was there, his hands now tied behind his back.