"I'm going up there again," he said, when some ten minutes had elapsed. "If this chimney allows us to reach the other cell, it will allow us, perhaps, to escape. Evidently our pleasant Stackanoff knows nothing about it. At any rate, if I can get into McNeil's prison, and can find some way out for both of us, he comes with me. Poor chap! See how long he has been shut up." "What, another!" exclaimed Tony aghast. "Ain't it bad enough to have this here Froggy? ain't that hard enough? And now yer wants to take on another pal?" Phil glared at him. "Very well," he said curtly, "we'll not make the attempt. I am sorry, for I did not know you were a coward." "Call me a coward, me a funk!" cried the gallant Tony, springing from his blanket-bed and striking himself on the chest. "Me, yer old pal too!" He looked half-sorrowfully and half-angrily at Phil. Then his face suddenly flushed. "So I am," he cried hoarsely. "Ain't the poor young officer in distress, and me wanting to desert him? Phil, old friend, here's my hand. I won't say another word against it." "That's right," said Phil, with a smile of relief. "I knew I had only to call you names to make you give way. Now I'll go up again. Come and give me a lift." Climbing into the chimney he worked his way up laboriously. Soon his hand caught upon a sharp ridge of brick, and happening to look up at that moment, he saw a square patch of light with somewhat rugged margins. "By George," he muttered, "that must be the broken chimney." He turned over so as to be able to inspect it the better, and, with an exclamation of annoyance, noticed that several bars crossed the chimney some eight feet up. "That will be our greatest difficulty," he thought. "Still, they are only built into brick, and we ought to be able to loosen them. Now for the other cell." He felt the brickwork with his hands, and was delighted to find that it descended suddenly at an angle, showing that it corresponded to the part in which he was lying, and that two fireplaces were evidently arranged to pour their smoke through one common chimney. The flue down which he was looking then must communicate with the other cell. "McNeil!" he cried softly. "McNeil!" "Hallo! Who's that?" came a muffled answer. Phil repeated his name again more loudly. "Come to the chimney!" he cried. "I am up here." A minute passed, and then the small patch of light which he could just discern beneath was suddenly obscured. "Who are you? Whatever is happening?" McNeil asked in an eager whisper. "Hush! Speak low. The jailer lives close outside my cell." "Do you remember Corporal Western and his friend? The two who helped you with the flag?" asked Phil, making a funnel of his hands. "Yes, of course I do. But who are you?"