ght had suddenly been turned on in the building against
which they crouched, and the shaft of light had simply been the inside
light flooding out through a rear window. When it didn't move where it
struck the bottom of the hill slope a dozen yards or so away Dave
realized the truth. And so did Freddy a moment later.

"Good grief, that scared me!" the English boy breathed.

"We'll talk later," Dave said. "Right now we're making tracks away from
here. Got your shoes on?"

"Yes," Freddy replied. "You lead, Dave. I'll stick right at your heels.
Mind your step, though."

"You're telling me!" Dave grunted and started creeping along the rear of
the building to the right.

When he reached the corner he stopped and cautiously peered around it.
Luck was with him. He had half expected to find himself looking down an
alley to the street out in front. But it wasn't an alley. It was just a
small court that connected with the next building. A high fence at the
front blocked off a view of the street. He couldn't see the street, but
the point was that when they started up the hill slope no passing
soldiers in the street could see them and give chase if for no other
reason than curiosity.

"Stick close, Freddy!" Dave whispered over his shoulder. "First stop is
the top of the hill. Here we go!"

Bent over low Dave turned sharp left and went scuttling across some
thirty feet of bare ground, and then into the scrub brush that fringed
the base of the hill. Hands out in front of him to prevent barging
straight into a tree, he started up the slope as fast as caution would
permit. By the time he was half way up his breath was coming in sobbing
gasps, and his legs felt like two withered sticks that might snap in two
at most any second.

He gritted his teeth and called upon every ounce of strength in his
strong young body. It was mighty hard going. From the prison room window
the hill slope had looked not at all steep, but now climbing up it in
the dark, dodging around tree trunks and jutting rocks, it seemed almost
to rise right straight up in front of him. Every so often he half
twisted around to make sure Freddy was still with him. And each time
that was exactly the case. Freddy was right there at his heels, puffing
and panting, but sticking like glue.

The English youth's courage and stick-to-itiveness made Dave doggedly
refuse to permit himself to rest even for a moment. Freddy wasn't
complaining, and if Freddy could take it then