Red was already out of sight. Tim lost no time in rounding the boiler and kneeling with Red behind a stack of wood which was topped by towels and rags that hung from the line. Devil had built up the woodpile high and solid so that the men would have a place to hide.
Tim tried to look out between the towels but Bell had hung them so that they overlapped.
Bell’s hand came around the boiler, and one blanket and then another tumbled over Tim’s head. He drew them away, smiling in spite of himself, and shoved one toward Red.
Bell whispered, “Bull Head’s in the courtyard now.”
Tim thought about the dummies. He hoped that Addison’s eyes were as dull as they looked.
Now Devil’s voice came deep and quiet. “Don’t worry. Bull Head’s gone inside again. You have nothing to fear from that thickheaded lout.”
Bell said, “The wagon came at half past three. Aunty left some things for you. We put them in the packs.”
At four thirty Addison sounded off again. “Time to go back inside.”
Tim could hear the shuffling of the prisoners’ feet and their mumbled talk. He heard the slam of the jailhouse door. Then he heard a most unwelcome sound. Senn’s voice came loud and clear from somewhere in the yard. The guard was changing, and Senn was giving his sentries instructions. Tim glanced at Red’s face, dimly lit behind the towels and rags. Red whispered disgustedly, “The man has no business here.”
“No talk,” rumbled Devil. “Senn will leave soon. There. He’s starting for the jailhouse now.”