Just then Hopkins and Curtis came hurrying by. Their faces wore a pleased expression, and each held in his hand a piece of paper which he flourished exultantly over his head.
“We’re going to see the elephants, and the lions, and tigers, and all the other things,” said Curtis. “I say, boys, if you want passes you’d better not be standing here. The fellows are packed around the superintendent’s marquée as closely as sardines in a box.”
Don and Egan replied that they had concluded not to ask for passes on that particular day, and Hopkins and his friend hurried on to their tents to exchange their fatigue suits for their dress uniforms.
“I haven’t yet been able to decide how we are going to get out,” repeated the sergeant, when he and Don were left alone, “but don’t you worry about that. I’ll hit upon something before the time for action arrives.”
“All right,” replied Don. “I’ll be ready when you want me.”
Egan turned toward his tent, and Don went back into his. He spent the time until dinner in reading the poster the sergeant had given him, hundreds of which had that morning been distributed about the camp by village boys who were hired for that purpose, and then he made his toilet and waited for the hands on his watch to travel around to one o’clock. They had scarcely got there before Sergeant Egan put in an appearance, carrying in his hand a small tin pail. He seemed somewhat disconcerted when he looked into Don’s tent, for it was full of boys.
“Come in, sergeant,” said Bert, pleasantly.
“Where are you going?” inquired Don. “To the spring after some fresh water, I suppose. Hold on till I get a bucket, and I will go with you.”
“So will I,” said Bert.
That wouldn’t do at all. The sergeant looked perplexed, but Don was equal to the emergency.