“This is the way they get from the passage to the tower,” said Danny, as they walked across the open space of grass and climbed through the hole in the wall into the cloisters. “I saw their wet footprints on the flagstones, leading up to the door of the tower,” he added.
“How many are in the tower?” said Dick.
“I don’t know for certain,” replied Danny. “But I have seen four belonging to the gang myself. One is in the passage. There are probably three or more up there.”
Dick tried the door. It was locked.
“Four of you stand on guard outside this door,” he said. “Two get further out in the ruin; one must keep his eyes on the top of the tower, and the other just patrol around. Danny, come with me.”
Five minutes later Dick was pushing his motor-bike out of its shed. Before long the boys were tearing down the road, Danny sitting on the carrier, clinging to Dick’s belt.
“Stop me at the telegraph post, won’t you?” he called over his shoulder.
Before long the boys were tearing down the road, Danny sitting on the carrier, clinging to Dick’s belt.
“Right,” panted Danny, through the wind. “Whoa!” he shouted presently. “Here we are!”