Chester shrugged his shoulders as much as his bonds would permit.

"Ask Hal," he replied. "I don't seem to be able to think of anything."

"Well," said Hal, "our guards, knowing that we are apparently securely
bound, won't keep as strict guard as they should, I hope. Once freed,
perhaps we can tap one of them over the head and appropriate his uniform.
After that another uniform and so on until there are garments for all.
We'll climb into them. Then we'll crawl under the tent, and once outside,
we'll strike out boldly."

"And after that?" questioned Chester.

This time it was Hal who shrugged his shoulders.

"Who knows?" he said quietly. "We'll have to leave something to chance."

"And Miss Ellison?"

"A uniform for her also," said Hal decisively. "It's the only way."

"But--"

"Oh, I know it is a desperate chance," exclaimed Hal. "But certainly
it is better than sitting down and awaiting the arrival of the
firing squad."

"You're right, Hal," said Chester. "But it's a ticklish business and one
that will require nerve."