"Stop firing," said Tom, with a vein of authority in his voice; causing the talkative Jack to remember that there were times when silence could be called "golden."
"I'm dumb as a clam, Tom," he announced; and probably really meant it, so far as a limited time went. But if anything at all out of the ordinary happened Jack could no more help whispering than he could give up eating and expect to live.
But even Tom felt that there was considerable truth in that assertion made by his chum. They were engaged in a most peculiar errand, though actuated by motives that did them both credit. And as they stole carefully along the country road heading toward the foot of the ridge upon which the old partly wrecked French chateau stood, both boys realized more than ever what chances they were accepting in making this bold move.
