Half an hour of creeping through wet brush brought us to the spot we were looking for. It looked to me like any other stretch of eight-foot masonry wall overhung with wet poplar trees.
"I'll go first," the old man said, "to draw the attention of the guard."
"Then who's going to boost me up? I'll go first."
He nodded, cupped his hands and lifted me as easily as a sailor lifting a beer glass. Pop was old—but he was nobody's softie.
I looked around, then crawled up, worked my way over the corroded spikes, dropped down on the lawn.
Immediately I heard a crackle of brush. A man stood up not ten feet away. I lay flat in the dark trying to look like something that had been there a long time....
I heard another sound, a thump and a crashing of brush. The man before me turned, disappeared in the darkness. I heard him beating his way through shrubbery; then he called out, got an answering shout from the distance.
I didn't loiter. I got to my feet and made a sprint for the cover of the trees along the drive.
IV