“Sit up,” Tim said. “I’ve got to talk to you.”
“What is it, boy?”
Tim slapped his thigh. “We have it,” he whispered. “We have a route at last.”
“You’ve marked it on the map?” asked Red.
Addison’s keys jingled in the hall.
“No, I’ll tell you later. Bull Head’s coming down the hall.”
Addison’s boots scuffed out of the adjoining cell and he appeared in the doorway with his lantern held high. He looked at Tim with something like a smile. “We meet again,” he said.
Dawson’s arm was dangling from his bunk. The man was apparently asleep.
Addison squinted at the bunk under Tim’s. “Is Lieutenant Mills in that pile of straw?”
Mill’s voice came from the corridor. “Sorry I’m not on my bunk,” he said, “but I had duties at the end of the hall.”