“You are probably all right, Miss, but if you are you will understand that this isn’t quite regular,” he declared, considerably perplexed. “I don’t know you. I shall have to call the corporal of the guard and turn you over to him.” This the driver did. The corporal, after looking them over, decided that he must refer the matter to the sergeant. The sergeant was of the opinion that both were spies, and, conducting them to a cellar, told them to go in and wait until he could report to his superior officer. Grace told him what unit they belonged to and asked him to suggest to his superior that he identify them through any officer in the Forty-seventh. The sergeant went away, first taking the precaution to close and secure the door from the outside. Grace Harlowe sat down on the cellar floor and laughed until Elfreda, standing over her, hands on hips, thought “Captain” Grace was becoming hysterical. “I see nothing in the present situation for merriment,” she rebuked most emphatically. “It is your misfortune, Elfreda, that you have no sense of humor. That you are lacking in this is my one great sorrow in life,” saying which Grace went into another spasm of laughter. She sobered suddenly and got up. “I wish we had had the forethought to fetch our rations with us. It would be just like that man to forget all about us.” The cellar was damp and very cold, so that sitting down on the floor for any length of time was not prudent, and therefore the girls walked back and forth, Grace seeking to keep up the spirits of her companion, frequently laughing at the thought of the luck of the Overton girls. But when nine o’clock came and no one had been near them, their situation ceased to be a subject for jest. “Elfreda, I give you due notice that I am going to break jail. I am going to get out of here. Enough is enough,” announced Grace Harlowe. “How?” “I shall find a way.” Grace tried the door. It gave a little, but plainly was secured with a bar on the outside. She observed, however, that the door was not heavily built except for the crosspieces. “Elfreda, can you find that post that we fell over on the rear side of this place?” she called. “Yes, here it is.” She carried the post to the front. It was heavy, undoubtedly having been used for a supporting post for the floor above at one time, but Grace found it too heavy for one person to use as she wished to use it. “Elfreda, if you will take hold of this end and stand before the door, steering the post against it as I thrust, I believe we shall be able to smash the miserable thing.” “Grace Harlowe, you will be court-martialed if you do that--if you break out. Don’t you know that you are at least theoretically under arrest?” “So are you, but that will not stop me from getting out if I can. Take hold here, please.” Elfreda did so reluctantly. The two girls then backed up several feet from the door, Grace at the far end of the post, Elfreda near the door end of it.