oleful, boys," said Macgreggor, "but I think we will
soon follow Andrews. As the days rolled on and we heard no more of any
trial or execution I began to hope that the Confederate Government had
forgotten the rest of us. I even thought it possible we might be exchanged
for the same number of Confederates in Northern prisons, and thus allowed
to go back to our army. But I've kept my eyes and ears open--and I have
now become anxious."

"Why so?" asked George. The boy looked thin and very pale, after his long
confinement.

"I heard some one--I think it was the Provost-Marshal--talking to the
jailer this morning, at the front door of the prison. I was looking out of
the window; you fellows were all playing games. 'Keep a very strict eye on
those engine-stealers,' the marshal said; 'a court is going to try
them--and you know what that means--death! A trial will be nothing more
than a formality, for the whole fourteen of them are spies, under the
rules of war. They were soldiers who entered the enemy's line in civilian
disguise. So don't let them get away.'"

Macgreggor's listeners stirred uneasily. This was not what might be called
pleasant news.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" asked Jenks.

"I hadn't the heart to," returned Macgreggor. "You boys were all so
cheerful."

Watson cleared his voice.

"I tell you what it is, boys," he whispered, as he gave Waggie a mournful
pat; "if we don't want to be buried in an Atlanta graveyard we must
escape!"

George's white face flushed at the thought. The idea of liberty was
dazzling, after so many weary days.

"Well," said one of the men, in the same low tone, "it's better to escape,
and run the risk of failing or of being re-captured, than to rot here
until we are led out to be hanged."

"Let's invent a plan that will enable us not only to get out, but to
_stay_ out," laughed Jenks.

There was dead silence for nearly ten minutes. The men, who had been
sitting on the floor watching two of their number at a game of checkers,
were deep in thought. At last Watson opened his lips.

"I have a plan," he whispered. "Tell me what you think of it. You know
that about sunset the darkies come into the rooms to leave us our supper.
The jailer stands outside. Then, later, the jailer comes and takes away
the dishes. He is then alone. Suppose we seize him, gag him, take his
keys, unlock all the doors on this floor, and release all the prisoners.
As you know, there are a number beside