“Well, it sure is queer,” the contractor had to admit when they had finished inspecting the third floor, including a big room next to the one containing the closet that seemed to be the starting point of the mystery. This room had an immense fireplace, and one of the men even stooped within it and peered up the chimney.
“He isn’t up there,” he announced, scraping some soot and dirt down the uncovered ash-chute with his foot. “Jim isn’t there.”
This was terrifying. Workmen might be familiar with accidents, but the girls could hardly stand such suspense.
The entire third floor, at least the undemolished rooms, was thoroughly searched, with no result. The fourth floor and the roof over it were so nearly destroyed that it required but the briefest of inspections to make sure no missing man was there.
Baffled, the party went down to the lower hall, Mr. Callahan becoming more serious and even showing alarm now that his workman could not be traced or located.
“What do you think now, Arden?” asked Terry in a low voice.
“I don’t know what to think, but he must be some place.”
“There’s no use in our staying here any longer, is there?” asked Dorothy.
“I can’t see what good we can do,” agreed Sim.
The contractor was talking to his men off a little to one side. He was arguing against their desire to quit.