They did not stop running with their arrival at the road; in fact, if anything, they increased their pace. Amos felt willing to keep it up just as long as his comrade thought best.
Presently they knew the village was at hand, and accordingly Jack slowed down to a walk. Both of them were breathing heavily, but Amos felt that he ought to understand what the plan of campaign was to be.
“Will you tell the old burgomaster about this adventure, Jack?” he asked.
“What’s the use?” the other replied. “There may be other spies around, and we’d only get ourselves in a peck of trouble. Besides, it wouldn’t do us any good. We don’t hanker after publicity. Fact is, in times like these the closer you draw your head in your shell, like the wise old tortoise, the better you’re off.”
Amos agreed with him. This was nothing new, for, as a rule, the boys were of one mind, though it might be said that Jack played the part of leader most of the time.
Upon reaching the humble house at which they were quartered, the boys soon ascended to their room, being tired, and in sore need of rest. The village lay there almost in absolute darkness. Here and there a candle might be burning, but oil was too scarce a commodity to be recklessly wasted when all things that were needed to be done could be accomplished in daylight, which cost nothing.
Jack had a treasured electric light in his pocket, a small affair, but which on numberless occasions he had found very useful. He used it sparingly because there was scant chance of replenishing the battery in case it ran out. Flashing it around the small chamber so that both of them might become familiar with their surroundings, Jack presently commenced getting ready for bed.
“I’m only meaning to take my shoes and coat off,” he told his cousin, “and then pull this cover over me.”
No doubt Amos thought this sounded a little suspicious, for he immediately turned on the other with a question.
“Does that mean you’re half expecting to be routed out of bed before morning, Jack?”