At last he reached the place, to find it tightly locked up below.
In a twinkle Leo was up on the kitchen shed. From there he clambered along the gutter of the addition until he reached the window of a middle room.
As he had surmised this window was unlocked, and he crawled inside, although not without difficulty and danger of breaking his neck by a fall.
No sooner had he entered than a most appetizing smell greeted his nose.
“Huckleberry pie!” he cried. “By criminy! but I must have a piece!”
Down the stairs went Leo. The pies set on the kitchen table, two in number. A third, partly gone, rested close at hand.
At first Leo thought, just out of mischief, to cut a fresh pie. But then he reflected that this might cause suspicion and trouble, and he let the whole pies alone and satisfied himself on a juicy portion of that which was cut.
A glass of milk washed down the pie, and then, feeling much refreshed, the boy hurried upstairs to the garret.
The mementos were done up in a flat pasteboard box. There were pictures of his mother and father and other relatives, and half a dozen letters and other things, including a silver watch.
Daniel Hawkins had always wanted the watch but Leo had never let on that he possessed it.