"I'm going to try my hand at house robbery," announced Peter. "Although I couldn't understand all the conversation between those two fellows, I managed to learn that they decided to go to the nearest village and get the police to make enquiries of the whereabouts of a certain Karl Hoeffer--evidently one of the two men who gave us an unpleasant five minutes. You're not to come; this is a one-man job. Make your way back to our hiding-place, wring out your wet clothes--over the coal, mind--and wait till I come back."
Malcolm knew that his elder brother's word was law in such matters. It was useless to expostulate. As he regained the barge he could just discern Peter's figure creeping up the opposite bank of the canal.
In ten minutes Peter was back again with the best part of a rye loaf, a large sausage, and a piece of cheese, all wrapped up in a couple of blankets.
"'Nuff said!" he remarked. "Wrap yourself up and eat. I'll tell you about it later."
The blankets were dry and comforting, the food really appetizing, and, having made a satisfying meal, the brothers slept soundly after forty hours of unceasing vigilance.
As Peter had expected, he experienced no serious difficulty on his foraging expedition. The house was deserted, but by means of a stack-pipe he entered by the open window at which the watchmen had been sitting. Having raided the pantry, the New Zealander removed a blanket from each of two separate beds, taking care that outwardly the beds appeared undisturbed. To cross the canal without wetting the food and blankets he swam back with the spoils held over his head. By the time the things were missed, the barge, with ordinary luck, ought to be miles away.
With the first streak of dawn the sleepers awoke, feeling greatly refreshed. Malcolm had taken the precaution to fill a tin with water from the canal. The liquid was fresh to a certain degree, and men who have served in the trenches are not fastidious.
The main point was that the fugitives would be able to quench their thirst during the heat of the day. Their wet clothes were spread out against the wall of their retreat, so that the heat of the sun's rays, penetrating the absorbent coal, would dry them sufficiently for the men before nightfall.
Shortly after sunrise the remaining barges of the flotilla, which had been tied up for the night at some distance along the canal, came up and passed the solitary craft. Before her crew returned with the horse, the previously leading barge became the last of the group.
The second day passed much like the first, except that the heat was not so trying, and that the men in hiding did not suffer from thirst.