“If we can slip into the tool house without his seeing us, he will suppose that we were not sent to work in the garden.” “I understand.” “We get into the well with the shovels at once.” “Yes.” “And begin work.” “But we will be missed?” “At noon probably.” “And search be made?” “I expect that.” “They may look in the well.” “Possibly.” “And then?” “We can wait, then.” “We will be safe in the tunnel we have dug by that time.” “But we can’t escape until dark?” “We can wait, then.” “And if they discover us----” “We’ve tried our best, that’s all, and that ends it!” replied Marcus philosophically. “To the garden!” was the order of the two boys the next morning, and Marcus led the way toward it. “Wait!” he whispered. “Now, then, the sentinel is walking in the opposite direction.” “To the tool house?” “Yes.” The boys reached the shed. Glancing from its window Marcus said: “He never saw us. Now then, off with the cover!” This was removed. “Throw in the shovels.” This, too, was done. “Get in!” “It’s terribly, dark!” “So much the better.” “And close!” “We must stand that!” Five minutes later the two boys were at the bottom of the well, and Marcus had in his descent pulled the cover into place. They at once attacked the side of the well, removing the loose bricks and mortar, and then digging west, covered them up with the earth. By noon, although nearly suffocated and pained from their position, they had dug some fifteen feet to the west. Then there was a forced wait and a careful estimate of time and a wonder as to how far the quest for them would be pursued. They lunched on the bread that Dean had brought, and crept back to the end of the tunnel nearest to the well shaft to get as much fresh air as was possible, and to decide on fading daylight from the chinks in the well cover. No one seemed to visit the well. They had no indication as to the fact that their escape had been discovered. What had really occurred was that the warden had that day gone away until evening. The sentinel supposed that the boys had not been sent to work in the garden that day, the deputy warden imagined them to be at work there, and when they did not appear at dinner, the guard naturally supposed that they were remaining away under the warden’s orders. At six o’clock the warden returned, however, and the boys were missed. The garden was first visited, and the tool shed glanced into, but nothing more, for the sentinel affirmed that he had seen nothing of the fugitives in that locality that day. A general alarm was given, a general search made, every nook and corner of the prison yard was looked into, but no trace of the boys could be found. All the evening the quest was kept up, but it proved to be a fruitless one. About an hour after dusk Marcus Ellison uttered a gasp of relief and excitement. His spade had pierced the ground over his head. The dirt rained down over them and he looked up and peered around.