“Yes; I heard them ride away.”
“And I heard them come back at daybreak; but I was too lazy to get up.”
“I don’t see what you are aiming at,” said West wearily; “but I suppose you have some good idea—I hope a plausible one.”
“I think it is, old lad,” said Ingleborough, speaking now in a low whisper. “Suppose when that commando musters after dark—I am supposing that one will go out again to-night—suppose, I say, when it musters we had crept out of the wagon and crawled as far as that one where our ponies are tethered?”
West’s hand stole forward to grip his comrade’s knee.
“Ah, you’re beginning to grasp it!” said Ingleborough. “Then, as I still have my knife, suppose I cut the reins and we mounted.”
“And joined the muster?” said West, in a hoarse whisper.
“It isn’t a dragoon troop, with men answering the roll-call and telling off in fours from the right.”
“No, just a crowd!” said West excitedly.
“Exactly! There’s only one reason why we shouldn’t succeed.”