“Let’s play cards by the wagon gate.”
“It’s a sight warmer right here.”
“We’d better stay by the gate in case the captain comes back that way. He wants a guard by the gate right through the night.”
Their footsteps sounded again as they walked to the gate.
Tim’s eyes were accustomed to the dark and he could see the shape of Red waiting patiently beside him. A slight yellow light behind the towels must be filtering in from the lamp by the jailhouse door.
Red whispered, “There may not be a better time than this. Let’s go.”
Tim stood up slowly, listening for a sound in the yard. He faced the window and put both hands on the bricks at the bottom of the opening. The frame had been so loose that Devil had taken it out and set it in the corner beside the stove. Red straightened up and stood beside Tim, ready to help him if he could.
Tim drew his elbows in to his sides so that he could wiggle through the narrow space. He pulled himself off the floor, and as he did so a brick came away and went tumbling and crashing to the floor.
Both men ducked. Tim could feel the thumping of his heart as he listened for the guards.
One of them said, “What was that?”