“Not so fast, old man.” Harry Hulbert was measuring the space between the rock and the hole. “If Mr. Pedersen buried himself alive up there in his rock house, he had to have room to crawl into his entrance. You’ll all agree to that.”
They silently nodded, then Jerry said, “I reckon Sven Pedersen was very thin, sick as he was.”
Etta alertly suggested, “I think the hole might have been uncovered then, but that the weight of the sand has gradually pushed the rock down against the opening.”
“Righto!” Jerry’s smile was approving.
Dora remarked, “Since we are not hunting for the old man’s bones, isn’t the important question whether or not this hole leads up into the rock house?”
“And the only way to find out is to get this stone out of the way,” Dick told them. “Now everybody push.”
It was a difficult task and after what seemed a long hard effort, there was barely room for one of the boys to get in.
Jerry crawled into the hole but backed out almost at once.
“It’s black as a pocket,” he reported. “It would be foolhardy to go in until we have a light.”
“I’ll get one,” Dick volunteered. “The Deputy Sheriff has a powerful flash in his car. Back in a minute.”