But thirst and hunger the boys must endure for a while; they dared not risk all until actually forced to do so.
Billy looked at his watch at least twenty times that afternoon. He was not quite sure that it was right, for the little silver ticker had been badly dented during the struggle for life in the tunnel, but the works were still merrily moving, and so continued worthy of confidence.
The watch, on the twentieth inspection, showed seven o’clock. The time for Reddy’s departure was drawing nigh.
No longer a rich prize for would-be captors, Reddy put himself in trim for swift and silent mission. His jewel-laden knapsack he laid aside. He shed gold, indeed, from every pore, and stood erect and smiling, as poor in purse as when he fled from his ruined home into the hills.
The watch ticked away another hour. Then Reddy was hoisted aloft on Billy’s shoulders, and turned the palms of his hands upward against the slab. A vigorous shove that almost cost Reddy his balance raised the stone and turned it to one side. Reddy did not fall backward, he leaped upward, dug his elbows into the earth, and wriggled out upon solid ground.
Pushing the slab back into place, and without another word, he bounded away in the darkness toward the familiar path in the ravine.
Nine—ten—eleven—midnight were counted by Billy’s watch.
After that the two comrades ceased to mark time. They were too drowsy to mark anything.
They would not have attempted to resist a rat had one attacked them.
There was coming from the tier of hills, from the terraced slopes rising above the valley of the Meuse, armed aid, but of the good tidings there was yet no sign to the weary, hungry, thirsty boys in the far-off cave.