There wasn’t a sound for a minute. Then the Man called out:
“Hey, inside there! Who are you and what d’you want?”
Mark pinched my arm and motioned to keep still.
“Come out of there,” says Jethro, and I felt like giggling. Not that I wasn’t afraid. Whee! I should say I was afraid. The chills that was running up and down my back was enough to freeze my spine into an icicle.
“They can’t g-get at us,” says Mark. “Let’s use what t-time we got to see if we can trace out the rest of Mr. Wigglesworth’s writin’. The last part of it says, ‘In. Down.’ We’re that all right. Then it says, ‘What color is a brick? Investigate.’ That comes next. What color is a brick, Binney?”
“Brick color,” says I.
“No?” says he. “G’wan! I thought it was the color of a orange blossom.”
“Red, then,” says I. “Most of ’em is.”
“This cellar’s b-built of red brick,” says he.
“Sure,” says I.