Bill Bolton-Flying Midshipman

ed Bill an hour lat

ime," yawned Osceola, getting stiffly to his feet. "In more ways than one, I hate to l

"but I'm not getting sentimental about it. Ever since that filthy snake poked his nose at me, I've been waiting for his wife

d. Osceola took the lead. He seemed to have no trouble in discerning obstacles quite invisible to Bill. At

pierce the inky shadow under the trees. If it had not been for Osceola's uncanny power, half instinct, half sight, Bill would have floundered into the soft mud of the swamp and been sucke

ep on to that log, and be careful. It runs up

n down to act as road ballast. A scramble up the steep incline followed, the

t a word, the youths broke into a trot. Fifty yards from the stockade gates they halted. There came a whispered c

inued to creep on until they arrived midway between two of the flood lights which illuminated

a's ear. "Lucky Martinengo never thought that prisoners might want to get into this place, rathe

e grunted a

d give me a hand up. When the guard comes along, I'll b

e wall again, while I'm tying him up with the creepers. On

-I'll do t

to the stockade. Here he turned, placed his back agai

ands and he chinned himself to the top of the wall. A broad sentry-bench ran along the inside of the stockade. Loungi

onto Osceola's should

leep!" he whis

et an arm over the top and stand by f

g. Then came a moment of severe strain-a

nch, tiptoed to the edge and the lads disappeared beneath it. T

ken. Each knew exactly what he must do, and kept his mind focussed on that performance. True, the first part of their plan was working out far better than they had

. It was shingled, and topped with a low-eaved roof of attractive green tiles. The contrast between this comfortable-looking dwelling and the barn-like quarters of the slaves was as pronounced a

own on the hardbaked clay of the compound, bringing every rut or small unevenness of the surfac

ake a dash for it

re likely to attract attention mov

nodded. "Read

t's

s shoulders, and it took considerable will power not to crouch and slacken his pace. Their naked feet made no sound at

covered, Bill got to his feet again. With Osceola at his heels, he cros

r, across from a large sink. Polished pans and cooking pots hung below

es to a meal," whispered Osceo

I prefer starving a bit longer-it's one better than dying by the lash! Through that door is ou

hind them. They were now in a hall which ran forward bisecting this part of the house. Ther

on a cot by the window. A small bureau, two straight chairs, a wardrobe trunk and grass matting on the floor completed the room's furnishings.

r to the hall. Neither made the slightest sound. Then Bill nodded to his friend. Osceola promptly

emarked the Indian in a low, dispassionate voice. "T

the bed. Those smoldering fires of pent-up hate won the battle bef

r with the automatic, he tore a sheet into long strips. With these the fellow on the b

minutes after entering the bungalow, Bill and

llar," mused Bill. They were in the

water a foot down anywhere in this compound. Haven't you go

bowl of eggs within reach of the

aviators somewhere. Perhaps the joint ru

emselves, all kinds of good things to eat, and we poor devils pigging it a stone's throw away!-Better break open some more of those cans. I see tomatoes, corn, aspa

n table. "I'll tell you one thing and that is, we eat the rest of this as is. I can't wait for cooking. Bring

the last dregs of their coffee and grinne

got away with three days' rations. Gosh! One more crumb and I'll bust! D

e it's safe, Bill. I wouldn't take a chanc

ds? He'll mosey along here in the morning, and when he

e is locked up in our prison house every night. That chap is just as keen to get back to his home and his people as we are. There

"That being the case, I vote we put the careless aviat

oing to stay up and wash dishes ..." he yawn