“Some bloomin’ Dutchman’s tryin’ to ask us whether we want sausage with our pancakes for breakfast!” growled Jimmie. “Let ’em alone!”
Disregarding this statement the older lad proceeded toward the window, where fitful gusts of sleet beat. Outside the darkness covered everything. Only an occasional point of light indicated a sentry hut.
“Who’s there?” demanded Ned in a low tone.
“Sh-h-h!” came a hiss from the darkness. “Open the window!”
Ned fumbled a moment at the fastening. Presently he found the catch sliding the sash back in its channel. An exclamation escaped him as he did so. The face of the visitor was none other than that of their missing acquaintance, Mackinder. Ned was astounded.
“Thought you were dead!” he cried in amazement.
“Hush!” cautioned the other. “Not so loud. Now, if you lads want to get out of here this is your time. Everybody’s busy or asleep!”
“How do you know we want to get out of here?” demanded Jimmie in a low tone as he approached the opening.
“Don’t you suppose I have eyes? I saw what you were up to!”
“Oh, you did, eh? Then what do you want us to do?”