"Lieutenant Lawton!" she shouted. "We are your friends. Your jailers are away. We are going to try to help you out now if we can. We shall set fire to the house and batter in the front door. You may run the risk of being burned up inside the house, but are you willing to take the chance?" Phil's voice sounded as though it came from a great distance off. Still, the young man inside the house heard her words. The house that kept him prisoner was built of wood, but iron bars had been put up across the windows, and heavy logs were jammed against the doors. It had been utterly impossible for Lieutenant Lawton to make his escape without help from the outside. He had made a friend of the deaf and dumb boy, but the latter had neither the courage nor the skill to get the young man out alone. At Phil's words Lieutenant Lawton cried out in rapture: "Willing to take a chance? I should say I am! Make your fire in a hurry. But I say, boys, if you see my jailers coming while you are at work, take to the woods. Hide there. Once you get this beastly place afire, I will manage to make my way out. All I ask is a fighting chance." Madge came up with her precious matches. Miss Jenny Ann stationed herself to watch for the return of the two men they feared. Phil, Madge and Jeff gathered a pile of light, dry wood and placed it just in front of the heavy log door. Jeff brought the ax which he used for his wood-chopping and laid it at Phil's feet. It was difficult work to get the wood ablaze without paper. Finally a few tiny sticks caught and blazed up. A moment later they died down into a little heap of embers, without even faintly scorching the wooden door that they were expecting to set on fire. A few moments of hope, then nothing but burnt-out ashes. The situation looked desperate. The girls had plenty of matches, yet they could not start a blaze without paper. It would take so long to coax the great logs to kindle from the bits of trash. And Jeff dared not go inside the tent for paper and kindling, for fear his mother would discover what they were doing. Miss Jenny Ann was growing more nervous every minute. "Hurry!" she cried every few seconds. "I am sure those men will return before you ever get the wretched place afire. What is taking you so long?" "We have no paper to make the fire burn, Miss Jenny Ann," cried Phyllis in desperation. "Paper!" returned their chaperon in disgust. "Have you children lived for two weeks on a desert island without learning to make what you have serve for what you desire?" Miss Jenny Ann slipped out of her white cotton petticoat and ran to the house to present it to Phil. "Here, use this for paper," she insisted. "I have on a heavy serge skirt and shall not miss it."