It would have been impossible for men to be in the condition which the
first historian describes if they had to man the pumps. It would have
been impossible for them to have done an hour's work. Therefore, I,
myself, believe the second story. Don't you?

But to return to stout "Josh" Barney, now meditating thoughts of
escape in old Mill Prison. Bold and resourceful he was always, and he
was now determined to face the difficulties of an exit and the chances
of detection. "I must and can get away," he said.

The prisoners were accustomed to play leap-frog, and one day the
crafty "Josh" pretended that he had sprained his ankle. Constructing
two crutches--out of pieces of boards--he limped around the
prison-yard and completely deceived all but a few of his most intimate
friends.

One day--it was May the eighteenth, 1781--he passed a sentry near the
inner gate. The fellow's name was Sprokett and he had served in the
British army in America, where he had received many kindnesses from
the country people. For this reason his heart warmed to the stout,
young "Josh," who had often engaged him in conversation.

Hopping to the gate upon his crutches, the youthful American
whispered,

"Give me a British uniform and I will get away. Can you do it?"

Sprokett smiled.

"Sure," said he.

"To-day?"

"Dinner."

And this meant one o'clock, when the warders dined.

"All right," whispered "Josh," smiling broadly, and he again hobbled
around the yard.

After awhile the sentry motioned for him to come nearer. He did
so--and as he approached--a large bundle was stealthily shoved into
his arms. He hastened to his cell and there put on the undress uniform
of an officer of the British army.

Drawing on his great-coat, he went into the yard and hobbled about
upon his two sticks until the time drew near for the mid-day mess.
Then he drew close to the gate.

One o'clock tolled from the iron bell upon the prison rampart, and, as
its deep-toned echoes sounded from its tower, several of Barney's
friends engaged the half-dozen sentries in conversation. It was the
time for action.

The astute "Josh" suddenly dropped his crutches. Then--walking across
the enclosure towards the gate,--he winked to the sentry. A companion
was at hand. With a spring he leaped upon his shoulders. One
boost--and he was on top of the walk. Another spring, and he had
dropped to the other side as softly as a cat.

But the second gate and sentry had to be p