"
"I'll make another search of the premises, maybe we can stumble across
something that may aid us. At any rate, it will give us something to do
and keep our minds off the predicament we are in."
Roy struck a match, of which he had a plentiful supply in his pockets.
As the yellow flame sputtered up in the semi-gloom it showed every
corner of the small hut. But it did not reveal anything that promised
a chance to gain their liberty.
All at once, just as the light was sputtering out, Peggy gave a cry.
Her eye had been caught by a glistening metal object in one corner of
the hut.
"What is it?" asked Roy.
"A gun--a shot-gun standing in that corner over there."
"Huh!" sniffed Jimsy, "a lot of good that does us."
"On the contrary," declared Peggy stoutly, "if it's loaded it may serve
to get us free."
"I'm from Missouri," declared Jimsy enigmatically.
"What's your idea, sis?" asked Roy, who knew that Peggy's ideas were
usually worth following up.
"I remember reading only a short time ago of a man trapped much as we
are who escaped by blowing off the lock of his prison with a gun he
carried," replied Peggy; "maybe it would work in our case.
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