“Walking!” answered Phil shortly. “What’s the matter?”
“Matter! De’il tak’ it,––I thocht the whole toon kent by this time. I thocht maybe ye were efter them.”
“Well, I’ll be hanged!” exclaimed Phil as the truth dawned on him.
“Ay,––ye may weel say it! What did I tell ye? Didna I say they’d never face trial? The eight o’ them broke awa’ three or four hours ago. It was real nicely planned.
“Ye see the airshaft there! It runs richt into the top o’ the wall and ventilates the prison where the men sleep. There was ootside collusion, of coorse. Standin’ on a horse, I guess they threw a rope into the airshaft from the ootside and it slid richt doon to the passageway, inside. They say one of the prisoners was a good hand at pickin’ locks and that he did them a’ wi’ a hairpin. Maybe he did. But they got oot o’ their cells anyway, climbed the rope one at a time, crawled up the airshaft and out. Just look at that airshaft––it would hold a half a dozen men at a time nearly. They might as well have left an open door for them as have that contraption,––no wire protection over the ends, nothing but hinged lids that anyone can raise at any time.”
“And they’re gone?” asked Phil helplessly.
“Gone,––ay! good and gone! Like as no’ they’re ‘ower the border’ by this time, like ’a’ the blue bonnets’ in the song.
“They had horses waitin’ for them.”
“But, land sakes, Jim!––where the deuce were the jailers, the police, all this time?” asked Phil.