“But this partition,” he whispered excitedly, “is not notched into the cabin wall. The logs were merely laid up, one upon another, then a white birch pole spiked in each corner to hold them into position. Once the poles are removed, the logs may be taken down.”
“And then?” the girl breathed.
“Your room will be mine and mine yours.”
“Until they discover.”
“They will not discover. We will not remove the logs until the hour set for our escape. When they discover the cage door open, the birds will have flown.”
It was with strangely mixed feelings that Red began the task of removing the white birch poles which held the logs in place. Until that moment the girl had seemed quite remote, one living in another world, a rich man’s daughter. But as the last spike yielded and the last pole stood leaning lightly in its place, as he realized that the logs that lay between them could be removed as easily as stones are piled or grain shocked, he became conscious of a new sort of comradeship such as he had experienced with none other.
“We are in for it,” he breathed, “for better or for worse.”
“For better or for worse,” came the girl’s faint answer. “And, oh, I’m sure it is for better than we dare dream.”
“Only one thing could be truly good: to get back to Soldiers’ Field on time.” Red thought this, but he did not say it.
With the preparations all made there remained but to wait. To one of Red’s nature, this was hardest of all. He was ever for action.