The guards kept chattering about their game, and Tim felt around with his other foot. He looked back through the opening. Red’s face was white and still, then it disappeared and appeared again. He handed the blankets through, then the packs. Tim reached for them one at a time and threw them gently so they came to rest by the missing board. Then Red came through. He was bigger around than Tim, and somehow his blouse got caught on the edge of the ragged opening. He tried to move forward but the brass buttons on the front of his blouse were caught fast. Tim grasped Red’s shoulders and felt a kind of rhythmic pulsing motion. Red was shaking with uncontrollable mirth. “You madman,” Tim whispered in Red’s ear. “You’ll give the show away.” Tim kept his hands on Red’s shoulders until the shaking stopped. Red wriggled free and eased himself to the pile of wood. Tim felt for the fence. His hand ran swiftly across the boards, but they all seemed firm. He gave the middle one a smack with the flat of his hand, and it hinged outward with a sudden creak. A guard said, “Someone’s stirring in the alley yonder. Maybe we should take a look.” “You’re as bad as Captain Senn. What happens outside is none of our worry. What’s got into you tonight?” There was a mumbled answer. Tim worked himself around and stuck his head out into the alley. He looked along the jailhouse wall toward the front of the jail. A feeble light from one of the windows struck the worn cobbles and dry grass. There was no one in sight. Slowly he worked his way around and looked the other way, not daring to pry the board up farther. A row of houses faced the back of the jail, lamplight showing in some of their windows. No one was in the street at the back, as far as Tim could tell. He pried the board upward, crawled into the alley, and reached back for the blankets and haversacks. Then he held the board up so that Red could come through. For a moment both men crouched in the alley beside the fence. Then they slipped their haversacks over their shoulders and folded their blankets over their arms. Tim grabbed the end of the board, and ever so slowly put it back, setting the points of the nails in the holes and shoving them in as best he could. The two men straightened up at last. Tim could feel the blood working into the numbness of his legs and arms. The night was chilly but the air was clear. They headed toward the back of the jailyard, going quietly so that they could pass the card players without being heard. When they reached the corner of the fence Tim looked cautiously south, then north. He gave a sign that the street was clear and crossed with Red at his side. The railroad ran a block or so east, just beyond the gardens at the back of the houses that faced the jail.