Consequently it was almost morning when he was able to stand up and move about freely. Cautiously he crossed the room, pausing at every board to make sure it would not squeak and betray him, and at last he reached a window through which the faint rosy streaks of dawn were coming—the second morning that Tom had been away from home. “Now to see if I can get this window open,” mused Tom. He scarcely hoped to find that it would open readily, and he was not greatly disappointed when he found it fastened. By the morning light, now growing stronger, and by feeling, he ascertained that the sash was held down by nails driven over the edges of it into the frame. A claw hammer would have taken these nails out in a second of time, but Tom had no claw hammer, and the files by which he had removed the chain from his leg had been taken from him. “But maybe by bending the nail back and forth often enough I can either loosen it enough to pull it out or I can break it off,” he told himself. He felt that he must now work quickly. For some time there had been silence in the rooms below him, and he guessed that his captors were sleeping, thinking him securely bound and locked in. “But they’ll awake soon and start getting breakfast,” Tom decided. “They’ll bring me up some, and then they’ll see that I have loosened the ropes. I’ve got to get away before they come up to feed me.” His fingers sought a wedging nail and began to bend it back and forth. At first it gave only a little, but eventually it moved more and Tom’s hopes rose. It was now getting lighter every minute. Tom felt that each moment was precious. Unless he got the window open soon and could manage to escape through it, he would be discovered. “There!” he exclaimed with a breath of relief as he at last broke off one nail. “Now for the other.” The second proved easier, for after working it backward and forward a number of times and twisting it about, Tom pulled it out. Now the window could be raised, and this he did cautiously. He waited a moment after lifting the sash and listened. There was no sound from below, and he thought that the men were still sleeping. He put his head out and looked down. To his dismay the window was higher above the ground than he had hoped, and there was on that side of the house neither a vine nor a rain-water pipe that he could descend. “I’ve got to jump for it!” he grimly decided. “But that grass below looks soft.” There was a big clump of green below the window. Tom climbed out, sat down on the sill, edged himself over and then hung by his hands a moment. This reduced the length of his drop by his own height. He hung there a moment and then let go. Down he plunged, coming to a stop on the earth with a thud that shook him greatly. He seemed to lose his breath and a sharp pain shot through his left ankle.