“Then,” says he, “it’s safe to s-s-say this s-secret’s got somethin’ to do with these bricks here.”
“Yes,” says I.
“Git the lamp,” says he, which I did. We felt all over for loose bricks and things like that. Sort of figgered we’d find a hiding-place somewheres, but we didn’t, and all the time Jethro and the Man were doing their best to get the door open.
“Hustle,” says I.
“What’s the use?” says he. “We can’t git out any more ’n they kin git in.”
Pretty soon Mark says, “Color’s got some-thin’ to do with it, too. Bricks and color,” says he.
He grabbed the lamp and went all around the room. All at once he stopped and called soft to me. “Binney!”
“Yes,” says I.
“Look,” says he.
I looked where he was pointing, and up toward the top of the wall was a brick that wasn’t brick color! It was a pale-complected brick—almost white.