Blackie stopped; I kept on singing, and the old guard walked right on by. When he was on the other side of the building I rushed up to Blackie.
“Blackie, you damn fool,” I softly exclaimed, “can’t you tell ragtime from a classic?”
“Ragtime,” he said in barely audible cockney English, “Why ragtime’s the name of a song, and by the way, old fellow, if you don’t like the way I’m digging this tunnel, come and try a hand at it yourself. It’s beastly, you know.”
“Go ahead,” I argued, “but from now on I’ll whistle only when he is coming. Get me?”
The next time the guard came around the corner of the building I began to whistle. To my surprise Blackie kept on working. I began to whistle louder than ever, but he kept right on, so, as the Guard approached me, I stopped whistling and instantly Blackie quit working. As the guard passed on I again went over to Blackie and said,
“Hey, you poor fish! Didn’t you hear me say to quit work when I whistled?”
“Oh, you’re wrong, old chap,” he insisted. “You said very plainly to work only when you whistled.”
I began to think Blackie had to have it impressed upon him, so, I said, “All right, now. Forget it all and let’s start over. Next time remember that when I whistle you work. See, when I whistle, I work; and when I whistle, you work, too.”
He understood this illustration pretty well and we kept this going successfully until about roll call, which was at nine o’clock. Then I asked Blackie if the tunnel was dug plenty deep enough. He was quite sure it was deep enough to get through, so, he crawled over the wire fence again, and we all beat it to our quarters to pack up our few belongings with the agreement that we would meet just outside the assembly shack right after roll call had finished.
This escape, as I have stated, was to be between four of us and no more; but I would swear, there were a hundred eyes on me at roll call. And afterwards, not more than fifteen guys came around and wished me luck.