"Me, too," said Sam. "He'd make a good match fo' Molly, when she comes back with her eddication, w'udn't he?"
Sandy stopped in his stride suddenly, so that Sam halted and regarded him curiously.
"Twist yo' foot?" he asked. "High heels is all right fo' stirrups but they're tough on hill climbin'."
"No. I was jest thinkin'. Nothin' that amounts to shucks. Gettin' dahk. We better git outside of our supper an' sneak up to the tunnel soon's it gits dusk enough to light the lantern."
CHAPTER XIII
A ROPE BREAKS
The lantern, turned down, dimly illumined the tent and revealed the figures of three men seated about some sort of rough table. The flap was drawn and fastened. Occasionally a figure moved slightly. No passer-by would have guessed that the three partners were ensconced in the black mouth of the tunnel, ramparted by the dump heap, watching for developments they were fairly sure would start with darkness. Every little while Sandy twitched a line that was attached to a clumsy but effective rocker he had contrived beneath one of the dummies they had built from the stuff that Plimsoll had not reclaimed.
"Don't want to work the blamed thing too much," he said. "Might bu'st it. It's on'y the one figger but I'll be derned if it don't look natcherul."