And down in the deserted village Ronnie saw another figure running in the rain. The figure appeared out of the trees and ran toward the rear wall of the padlocked building. It disappeared from sight behind the building. Ronnie waited for it to reappear, but the minutes passed without another movement in the village.
The boy remembered Great-great-grandfather’s words in his diary: “His body lies below, together with the evidence of his guilt.” There was no doubt in the boy’s mind now what his great-great-grandfather had meant. Down below the padlocked building, of course.
And Ronnie remembered, too, how savagely the stranger had attacked the interior of the building that afternoon overturning furniture, pounding on the walls, scattering the papers.
It wouldn’t be long, Ronnie realized, before the man would begin to rip up the floor boards.
“Bill and I have got to get there first!” he told himself.
Chapter 13
The thunderstorm did not roll away to bother other parts of the country as thunderstorms usually do. Instead, it turned into a steady downpour that showed no signs of letting up. The barnyard flooded and the water ran down the driveway in small streams that washed away the gravel and left gullies along the edges.
All night it rained, and when Ronnie awoke the next morning it was still coming down. After breakfast the boy moved from one room to the next, trying to decide what to do. He was worried about what the intruder might have discovered during the night. Perhaps by now he had found the money and glassware and had already left the village with his loot.
Ronnie made up his mind. He went to the telephone and called Bill. He told him about the figuring he had done, how he believed the money and glassware were hidden somewhere beneath the padlocked building, and how he was afraid the intruder might already have found it. “We’ve got to work fast, Bill,” he said urgently.
“I’m with you, Ronnie,” Bill agreed. “I can get away, I think. Can you?”