outh's
speech. "Quit a pal just because I'm American and he's English? Not a
chance. We're sticking together. You can't toss me off like that!"

"But I was only thinking of you, Dave," Freddy protested. "After all I
really got you into this, you know."

Dave suddenly stopped acting hurt and angry. He bent down and grinned
broadly.

"So what?" he whispered. "So I'll get you _out_. We've got until
tomorrow morning to think things over. That's what he said. Well, we're
not going to think things, we're going to _do_ things. Are you game,
Freddy?"

For an answer Freddy put out his hand, and the two clasped hands warmly.
The color came back into the English youth's face, and that made Dave
feel almost happy.

"Okay, Freddy," he whispered. "I saw something besides airplanes out the
window awhile ago. Come over and I'll show you."

For a couple of seconds Dave stood still listening to the footsteps of
the guard outside, then he motioned to Freddy and tiptoed over to the
window.

"Look out, and down," he breathed in Freddy's ear. "See? The bottom half
of this building sticks out. See the roof? It's not more than six feet
below this window. And it's not more than ten feet from the edge of the
roof to the back yard. Think you could jump it?"

"Easy!" Freddy whispered. "But what about this window, here? It's
screwed in."

"Got that all figured, too," Dave said and pulled an army canteen spoon
from the pocket of the old clothes he wore. "Swiped this from the
breakfast tray," he said. "A hunch made me stick it in my pocket. A
spoon makes a swell screw driver sometimes. I found that out once when I
was a kid. I used one of my Mother's to open an old chest I found up in
the attic. I got a licking for it because I marked up the wood pretty
bad. But the spoon did the trick. Now, here's what you do."

Dave paused and slipped the tip of the spoon handle into the groove of
the nearest screw head and applied pressure with both hands. He turned
the screw a sixteenth of an inch or so and then stopped.

"Hot dog!" he whispered. "I was scared for a minute the darn things
would be so rusted with age they wouldn't budge. But, it's okay. Now,
you go over to the door and start talking to me. Talk about anything.
Sure, let's talk about baseball."

"But I don't know anything about baseball!" Freddy whispered.

"That's swell!" Dave said. "You can ask me questions and I'll give you
the answers. But keep an ear open for that guard. If he