“That’s a new feature of the establishment,” Jimmie asserted. “That gate hasn’t been long exposed to this damp air!”
“I don’t care how long it hasn’t been here!” Carl said, rather crossly. “What I want to know is how long is it going to remain there?”
“I hope it will let us out before dinner time,” suggested Jimmie.
“Away, you and your appetite!” exclaimed Carl. “I suppose you think this is some sort of a joke. You make me tired!”
“And the fact that we couldn’t get out if we wanted to,” Jimmie grinned, “makes me hungry!”
“Cut it out!” cried Carl. “The thing for us to do now is to find some way of getting by that man-made obstruction.”
“Man-made is all right!” agreed Jimmie. “It is perfectly clear, now, isn’t it, that the supernatural had nothing to do with the demonstrations we have seen here!”
“I thought you understood that before!” cried Carl, impatiently.
Jimmie, who stood nearest to the gate, now laid a hand upon one of the upright bars and brought his whole strength to bear. The obstruction rattled slightly but remained firm.
“Can’t move it!” the boy said. “We may have to tear the wall down!”