In ten seconds the guards had lost themselves among the rocks.
Gale and Jan were now lying flat on the rocks.
“Jan,”—Gale’s voice was husky. “You crawl back down into that cellar. Crawl. Don’t walk. That way he can’t see you. Let him think we’re dead.”
“Wha—what will you do?” Jan breathed.
“I’ll lie right here and when the time comes I’ll bend my finger, that’s all,” was Gale’s slow reply. “I don’t like that Jap, not a bit. Think of coming back to gloat over what you’ve done to a couple of girls!”
“He didn’t know we were girls,” said Jan.
“Oh no? Well, perhaps he did. They know too much, those little brown men, or think they do. Well, here comes one that may not know a thing after today.
“Now you slide out of here, and slide fast!” Gale commanded. And Jan slid.
The Jap plane had been coming in low. That was so any American planes above wouldn’t see it. Perhaps the pilot had been ordered back to observe and report. Gale wouldn’t know about that,—not for sure. As the Chinese soldier had said, he might be bringing in one more bomb to finish the job. One thing was sure. He did have a machine-gun. That was dangerous.
Gale’s suit was the color of the rocks. But her face? She tore a hole in her khaki handkerchief, then tied it on as a mask.