“I wish to examine the roof.”
Not without much difficulty I succeeded in reaching my chum’s broad shoulders and standing upright upon them. I could now touch the ceiling of the smoke-house with ease, and I had Alano move around from spot to spot in a close inspection of every bit of board and bark above us.
“Here is a loose board!” I cried in a low voice. “Stand firm, Alano.”
He braced himself by catching hold of the stone wall, and I shoved upward with all of my strength. There was a groan, a squeak; the board flew upward, and the sun shone down on our heads. I crawled through the opening thus made, and putting down my hand I helped Alano to do likewise.
“Drop out of sight of the house!” he whispered. “Somebody may be watching this place.”
We dropped, and waited in breathless silence for several minutes, but no one showed himself. Then we held a consultation.
“They thought we couldn’t get out,” I said. “More than likely no one is left at the homestead but a servant or two.”
“If only we could get our bags and pistols,” sighed Alano.
“We must get them,” I rejoined, “for we cannot go on without them. Let us sneak up to the house and investigate. I see no dogs around.”
With extreme caution we left the vicinity of the smoke-house, and, crawling on hands and knees, made our way along a low hedge to where several broad palms overshadowed a side veranda. The door of the veranda was open, and, motioning to Alano to follow, I ascended the broad steps and dashed into the house.