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Updated: May 26, 2025
They strained their eyes to make out the figure of the guard who passed the brick wall. He was not in sight. It was a good omen. Lenhart had no doubt foreseen their escape and dropped to the street outside. They saw that the timbers of the gallows on which they were to die had not all been fastened. They secured two pieces of scantling and reached the top of the wall.
She nodded, brushed the tears from her eyes and left quickly. He was on the job without delay. Cook and Edwin Coppoc, condemned to die on the same day, occupied the same room in jail. They borrowed a knife from Lenhart as soon as he came on duty and "forgot" to return it. With this knife they worked at night for a week cutting a hole through the brick wall.
A number of the city's surgeons were present Grayson, Fields, Lenhart, Stevenson men accustomed to see Burns at work and to recognize his ability as uncommon. Not that they often admitted this to themselves or to one another, but the fact remains that they understood precisely why Van Horn, if he chose a local man at all which of itself had surprised them very much had selected Burns.
Under their clothes in a corner they concealed the fragments of bricks. When the opening had been completed, they cut teeth in the knife blade and made a small saw strong and keen enough to eat through a link in their shackles. On the night fixed, Lenhart was on guard waiting in breathless suspense for the men to drop the few feet into the prison yard.
I come all the way here to help him. I joined these guards to get to him. I'm goin' to get him out of here if I can." "Thank God thank God," she murmured. "Keep a stiff upper lip and get your hand on some money to follow us." "I will." Another guard approached. "Leave me now. My name's Charles Lenhart. Don't try to talk to me again. Just watch and wait."
"When are they going?" "To-morrow. We'll wait until to-morrow night after they've gone." "But Lenhart may not be on guard." "That's so," Cook agreed. "Coppoc, you can go alone. You'd better do it." "No." "You'd better." "I'm not made out of that sort of goods," the boy answered. "You've got a good old Quaker mother out in Springdale praying for you. It's your chance go I can't tonight."
Suddenly the dark figure of a guard moved toward them. Cook called the signal to Lenhart. But a loyal son of Virginia stood sentinel that night. The answer was a rifle shot. They started to leap and caught the flash of a bayonet below. They walked back into the jail and surrendered to Captain Avis, their friendly keeper. The little wife waited and watched in vain.
Neither Van Horn nor Buller would admit that there was danger of this; but Grayson, who had seen the hand yesterday; Fields, who was making blood counts for the case; Lenhart and Stevenson, who had come to make friendly calls every few days and who knew from Fields how things were going all were shaking their heads and saying in worried tones that it looked pretty "owly" for the hand, and that Van Horn and Buller would do well if they pulled Burns through at all.
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