[CHAPTER I]
A FLIGHT BY NIGHT
“Flash the light on the compass again, Frank. Let’s have another look!”
Instantly the ray of an electric hand-light shot over the shoulder of a boy and centered itself on a curiously arranged compass fixed between the lad’s feet.
“About a point off northwest—”
“But what good does that do?” exclaimed the one addressed as Frank. “It was dark when we came about and we didn’t know our course then. By dead reckonin’ I’d say we ought to head more to the north, Phil.”
“More to the north it is,” was the instant answer. At the same time there was a creak as if the speaker had executed some movement; the crouching Frank lurched forward and then fell back into a low chair behind the other boy. “Keep a lookout below for any lights you can recognize, but use the floor trap—don’t open that window again; the rain comes in like a waterfall. I’ll keep watch ahead,” added Phil, ignoring his companion’s tumble.
“You needn’t bother,” suggested Frank. “We’d ’a’ raised the town lights if we were anywhere near ’em. I tell you, we’re way off our course!”
“Good enough,” chuckled Phil. “What do we care? We wanted a ride in the dark and we’re gettin’ it, good and plenty.”
“The rain and clouds may be shuttin’ out sight o’ the town lights a little,” conceded Frank. “I guess you’d better keep your eyes peeled just the same. There are lights below, here and there,” he continued, “but they don’t mean anything; that is, I can’t make anything out of ’em. I own up—I don’t know where we are.”