But that staple was put there to stay. It was made by the
plantation blacksmith under Don's personal supervision, and as it was
long enough to be clinched on the inside of the door, Bob made no
progress whatever in his efforts to force an entrance.
"We can do nothing here," said he, after he had pulled and pushed
until the inside of his hands seemed to be on fire. "We must try the
window."
"But that is so high you can't reach it," said Lester.
"Not from the ground, I know. You will have to hold me up."
Descending from the porch with noiseless footsteps, the boys passed
around to the rear of the cabin, and when Lester had stationed
himself under the window, Bob quickly mounted to his shoulders. He
examined the window as well as he could in the dark, and began to
grow discouraged. It was boarded up with two-inch planks, and they
were held in their places by the largest spikes Don could find at Mr.
Jones's store. Bob pushed his lever under one of the planks, but when
he laid out his strength upon it, Lester rocked about in so alarming
a manner, that Bob lost his balance, and to save himself from
falling, jumped to the ground.
"We might as well go home," said he, rubbing his elbow, which, owing
to Lester's unsteadiness, he had scratched pretty severely on the
rough planks.
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