He had chased rabbits into almost every hole in these hills, and in the woods he could travel even beyond the German frontier by as many different routes as he counted fingers on his hands.
Billy, Henri and Reddy were in close conference all day, so quiet, and so cautious, for the once, in their movements, that the sergeant wavered between suspicion and anxiety, the first because he thought his charges must be up to something, and the second for the reason that he feared they were going to be ill.
He might have imagined relief from anxiety by thinking the boys were tremendously hungry had he seen their frequent trips during the day to the places where provisions were stored.
Had he seen them, however, taking several small safety lanterns from the ammunition department, suspicion would have stood first in his mind.
“The tunnel begins at a point 500 yards directly west of Fort Les Paroches, and it is called ‘point of rocks,’” Henri reading the notes and following with a pin point the lines of the little map that Francois had given him.
The mentioned fort had been silenced only the day before by German mortars, and its location was now marked by a huge mound of black, plowed up earth.
“That’s only three miles from here.”
Reddy was eager to show his knowledge of the neighborhood.
Henri passed Reddy’s statements on to Billy in English.
“‘Bowlders laid in the form of a cross show the place of entrance,’” Henri continuing to read.