“Don’t you hear it?”
“It’s caught sure as guns,” Bob declared, after listening intently.
“It sure has,” Jack agreed, “and by the sound it’s going in good shape.”
Bob moved about the room, stopping every few feet, to listen and cautioning the others to keep quiet.
“I think it’s right here,” he announced, pointing to the roof about half way down one side. Quick, now, get that table under here and make it snappy.”
Without waiting to question his intention Rex dragged the table to the place where Bob was standing, and in almost less than no time, as Jack would say, he was on a chair which he had placed on the table, hacking away at the roof with the axe.
As Bob had said, the roof was made of light material, covered with bark and moss, and he made short work of cutting through it, and he soon had a hole large enough to admit his head.
“Don’t you poke your head out of that hole,” Jack ordered.
“I’ve got to, so don’t argue, but hand me that box there—quick.”
“They’ll take a shot at you.”