“We’ll have to clean up that straw and fix Sim’s bed before anyone comes in here snooping around.”
“Yeah,” O’Malley said but he did not move.
CHAPTER VIII
FLIGHT
Stan began cleaning up their room so that the guards checking rooms that night would not notice Sim had gone. He wanted to give Sim as much of a start as possible. While he was brushing the straw under Sim’s bunk the door opened. Both boys turned quickly. In the doorway stood Sim. His lips were parted in a thin smile.
“Sim!” Stan took a step toward the door. “We thought you had gone.”
“Quiet,” Sim whispered. “Come with me.”
He turned and moved out into the hall with Stan and O’Malley at his heels. They walked down the hall and into a corner room. Sim crossed the room and opened a window. They saw a rope dangling over the sill.
Stan peered into the darkness below but could see nothing. “There should be a guard right under this window,” he whispered.
“He has been taken care of,” Sim hissed. “You go down. We will follow.”