Frank involuntarily tried to draw his hand back.
The grasp of the unknown, however, was too strenuous, and he could not do so unless he created such a disturbance as must have aroused any sleeper nearby. Besides, a wild suspicion had flashed through his mind. Perhaps this was his chum Jerry, trying to escape from his place of confinement.
He squeezed the fingers that clutched his. It was a sign manual used in the secret society to which both of them belonged in the Academy at Centerville. To his great delight the secret grip was returned immediately.
Then it was Jerry! He was alive, and even at that moment endeavoring to get away from those who were holding him against his will!
Frank felt like shouting aloud, so great a sense of gratitude swept over him; but fortunately he did not give way to such foolishness.
He put his head deep down into the hole he had made and whispered, making just the faintest sound possible:
“Jerry!”
“Frank!” came back like the sighing of the wind up in some of those lofty trees that overhung the lonely cabin with such a bad name.
Then the last doubt vanished. It only remained to get Jerry out of that place as soon as possible. Why, left to himself he seemed able to force his way to freedom, and with what aid they could extend surely only a few minutes would be needed to accomplish it.
Even as he thought thus, he felt his hand violently thrust back. At the same moment there was the sound of heavy voices in the cabin. Evidently one or both of the tramps must have entered the second room and discovered Jerry on his knees engaged in tunneling out.