Then a head was finally thrust up through the opening. Bluff gasped again. It seemed as though he were bound to get shock after shock.
“Get next to that, will you?” he whispered in Frank’s ear, as he clutched his sleeve and jerked hard; “why, it’s our chum Jerry! Oh! ain’t he the candy kid, though?”
“Hush!” said the other, giving him a push, to keep him from rising in his excitement.
“Well, I take off my lid to him, anyway,” whimpered Bluff, unable to give proper expression to his feelings.
The boy whose actions they were watching seemed to have made up his mind that he must get out of that cabin some way or other. He had been halted in his tunneling operations, and perhaps there was some reason why he might not resume them, or try and open the door; but Jerry evidently could not be held in restraint.
It was possible that his captors were dozing, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, he was about to quit their company by means of the hole he had made in the roof.
Now his body had appeared. He was testing the rotten timbers first to make positive that they would hold him.
Bluff hardly breathed as he stared as well as he could, for it was half dark here, even in the daytime. He knew that a mutual surprise awaited all the persons taking part in that little drama, when Jerry reached the edge and looked over. Those crouching below expected to see one of the tattered hoboes, while possibly Jerry hoped he might find his chums awaiting him.
“It’s coming!” Frank heard him say, as he fumbled around for something; but he was so much interested himself that he did not give Bluff a second thought.
Then the creeping boy on the low roof of the cabin reached the edge. They saw him stretch his neck so that his head projected over; and there he remained, as if frozen stiff by the strange sight that greeted him.