Then he forced himself to think out a way of escape, a little further conversation with Jem making him feel that he must depend upon himself, for poor Jem’s injury seemed to make him at times confused; in fact, he quite startled his fellow-prisoner by exclaiming suddenly,—
“Now where did I put them keys?”
“Jem!”
“Eh? All right, Sally. ’Tarn’t daylight yet.”
“Jem, my lad, don’t you know where you are?”
“Don’t I tell you? Phew! My head. You there, Mas’ Don?”
“Yes, Jem. How are you?”
“Oh, lively, sir, lively; been asleep, I think. Keep a good heart, Mas’ Don, and—”
“Hist! Here they come,” cried Don, as he saw the gleam of a light through the cracks of the door. “Jem, do you think you could make a dash of it as soon as they open the door?”
“No, Mas’ Don, not now. My head’s all of a boom-whooz, and I seem to have no use in my legs.”