“What’s the matter?” anxiously whispered five voices.
The very actions of Mr. Gilroy now filled the scouts with fear, for he leaned over and in such a low whisper as to be hardly distinguishable, said: “Some one’s behind the wall of this hut.”
It was well that at this moment a muffled curse sounded from the wall at the back of the hut, where it was built up to meet the rocky ledge of the mountainside. The scouts instantly felt their courage revive when they knew where to look for the danger.
A hoarse whisper was now plainly heard through the chinks of the wall where the clay had been plastered in.
“Agh! now you must mek a noise aut get us pinched in agin!” The voice was gutteral and spoke with a strong foreign accent.
“But dis foot is crusht allreatty. I can’t stant it anudder minute. I’m better off in jail dan widdout a foot!”
Mr. Gilroy now placed his mouth close to Julie’s ear and whispered: “You and Joan take the flashlight and creep out of here as noiselessly as possible. Run for your lives down the trail and give the signal the police determined upon. Here is a whistle. Blow it three times with but a moment’s interval between—then, if it is not answered, blow again. Keep this up until you get an answer.”
“Supposing the two policemen are not down that trail?” asked Julie, as softly as could be.
“They will be—because now we know they are not killed. We have the two fugitives in behind that wall, and I want to keep them there until the police get here,” said Mr. Gilroy.
Julie and Joan then crept away, and Mrs. Vernon heard Mr. Gilroy’s voice close at her ear explaining where they went.