“Take it,” said the man with the resignation of despair. “The Colonel will have me shot like a dog, but take it. I cannot refuse.”
He handed her the knife and then turned his back full upon the prisoners.
“Quick,” whispered Jeanne. “Cut your brother’s bonds first, and then let me have the knife.”
She ran to her brother’s side as she spoke and threw her arms about him.
“Dick, Dick,” she said kissing him repeatedly. “I am going to cut the cords that bind you. Then you must run for your life.”
“Jeanne,” came the amazed voice of the lad, “how in the name of all that’s wonderful, did you come here?”
“I am well and happy,” cried Jeanne hurriedly. “I cannot tell you more now, but I am going home soon. Don’t mind about me. Bob, hurry, hurry, before Johnson turns.”
“There!” said Bob flinging her the knife. Rising to her feet triumphantly she called to her friend. “Be quick, Jeanne! Johnson is looking at his watch.”
“Run, boys,” panted Jeanne as the keen edge of the blade severed the cord that bound her brother’s feet. “If you value your lives, run like the wind.”
Frank Peyton needed no second bidding. He was off but Dick Vance hesitated as he glanced at his sister.