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“Well, I own up I did miss some of his growl, but what of that?” confessed Jack. “Was there anything in particular he said that meant trouble for you and me?”

“Yes, yes,” answered the other, in a gasp. “He told the lieutenant they wouldn’t want to leave such a splendid lookout to be used by the enemy, and that it must be destroyed!”

“What, this windmill, do you mean?” demanded Jack, himself thrilled by the news.

“He said they ought to leave a bomb with a short fuse behind them, and the last man away would put a match to it!” Amos volunteered.

The Western boy may have been startled by what he heard, but it was Jack’s way never to show the white feather. He even whistled softly half under his breath; for the trampling of many hoofs down below served to make it impossible for ordinary sounds to be heard, so there seemed no possible danger of the chums being betrayed by their low conversation.

“That’s a nice outlook I must say,” chuckled Jack, pretending to make light of the threatening peril. “For one, I’m not hankering to climb the golden stairs in such a hurry. I tell you what we’ve got to do, Amos.”