"What do you mean?" demanded Susie, raising her head from her pillow.
"I mean—wait till the men are asleep, and then you tell me where the gas is, and we'll sneak off. I'd take you to a hospital, and I'd promise never to tell on you."
"And lose all that ransom money? Slats'd never forgive me!"
"But what good's money, if you're a cripple?" countered Linda.
"Yeah—I see what you mean," agreed Susie. "Only we'd never get away with it. They'd hear us gettin' out—remember I can't walk by myself.... No, Linda—it's no go."
Disappointed, Linda dropped back on the cot, seeing that further argument was no use, and, fortunately, fell quickly asleep. Had she not been so tired, she would probably have been disturbed during the night, for Susie tossed and moaned without any regard for her companion. But Linda slept the sleep of exhaustion.
Just as dawn was beginning to show a faint light through the door of the tent, Linda was rudely awakened by a gruff voice. Startled, she looked into the unpleasant face of Susie's husband, and she shuddered as she recalled where she was. The thought flashed into her mind that soldiers and criminals were usually shot at sunrise, and her hands shook with fear. What was the man going to do to her?
"Get up, Linda!" he commanded. "You're working today."
"Working?"
"Yeah. Flying."