As to the Seven it is still easier to say what they did. With one accord they sank down on the floor of the musty cell and stared at each other in complete and absolute consternation and disgust. Nobody said anything, because nobody knew of anything to say. They were simply knocked into a cocked hat, as the phrase has it; they were stumped, helpless and hopeless, and that was all there was to it.
They sat that way for perhaps two solid hours. During that time Indian had gone to sleep, in which “the farmer” had set him a good example. The Parson had been heard to give vent to one “by Zeus,” and Dewey a single disconsolate “b’gee,” which did not even remind him of a story. And that is the complete inventory of what happened during the desolate period.
But such states of mind cannot last forever, especially in young persons. Mark made up his mind that at least it would be worth while to test the cell they were in, to make sure that the doors and windows were fast. This was a country jail; country jails are often cheaply built, and oftener still very old and unreliable.
Mark got up and fell to pacing back and forth. His example aroused the rest, and pretty soon the place resembled a menagerie cage, with half a dozen wild animals sniffing at the bars. They shook the door savagely; it had a solid “feel,” and the only result of the effort was to bring the cross and sleepy jailer to the cell.
“Keep quiet, there,” he growled, “and go to sleep, will you!”
The prisoners relapsed into silence again, and the man went away, after which the examination went on. The floors and walls of the cell were of solid masonry, which was uncompromising. Mark had heard of prisoners who dug their way out with such objects as spoons. But the unfortunate plebes had not even a spoon, and besides, that operation was apt to take longer than the time between then and the morning gun. It was just two o’clock by Mark’s watch.
The only other place where there seemed the faintest possibility of hope was the window. That was large, and it allowed the moonlight to stray into the cell, which was as light as day. But also there were heavy iron bars, which resisted firmly the most powerful efforts of Mark’s strength.
And so that hope, also, was futile. The Seven retired into a corner and discussed the situation in sad whispers. It was evident that they could not escape. It was equally evident that if they did not they would cease to be cadets on the morrow. Thus simply put the proposition was startlingly clear and horrible.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast, they say. Scarcely had they settled the argument thus, before Texas sprang up with a sudden cry; an instant later he fell to work unwinding himself from the lasso that was still about his waist. The sheriff hadn’t thought it necessary to remove that lasso; he hadn’t the least idea what use a prisoner could make of it. For that matter, neither had Texas’ companions, unless he meant to hang himself.
But Texas knew a trick worth two of that; silently and rapidly he proceeded to uncoil it, and when he had done that, he doubled it once, twice, three times.