“Jerry, we’ve got to start acting fast,” he said. “There’s hardly any time left!”
“Act how?” Jerry said. “What can we do but sit here and wait like a couple of chickens in a crate being taken to market? If you can think of anything to do, I’m game, but I haven’t got an idea in my head.”
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do about the situation now,” Sandy said, “but I have an idea that might work later on. It may not be worth much, but anything’s worth trying.” He cast his eyes about the small cabin.
“Did you by any chance come across a first-aid kit while you were searching?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” Jerry answered. “It’s in that locker next to the money. But what do you want it for?”
“Bring it over and I’ll show you,” Sandy answered.
While Jerry went for the first-aid kit, Sandy took the brass flare pistol from its bracket above the bunk. Then he sat down on the bunk and rolled up his pants leg. “Here,” he said. “Give me some tape. I’m going to strap this bulky thing to my leg if we have enough.”
“What for?” Jerry asked in surprise. “It’s not a real gun, you know. All it does is fire a flare. Besides, there’s only one flare in here, and I don’t know if that can do us very much good.”
“I don’t care about the flares,” Sandy answered. “It’s the gun itself that I’m interested in. It fooled me when I saw it and it just might possibly fool someone else who might not be familiar with these things. I’m hoping that if we get a chance to pull it on someone after dark, we can fool him long enough to get hold of a real gun that will help us escape!”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Jerry admitted. “That is, if we’re still alive by dark!”