Paul agreed. At one of the side windows Wallace used his hatchet and pried away three boards giving them enough room to climb through. Wallace was the first to tumble in and Paul quickly followed. With the help of their searchlights, they examined the room. It was very dusty, with cobwebs and several broken chairs strewn about the floor; otherwise the room was completely empty. Paul whispered, “Well, there’s nothing much here, so let’s move on.”
The floor squeaked as they tiptoed to the door. There was no knob and the door stuck tightly. Wallace used his hatchet and pried it open. The boys stepped into a large foyer. To one side were the stairs leading to the flight above, and across the hall were two doors. They approached the nearest door and endeavored to push it open; it stuck fast. Pulling and tugging, the knob broke loose. Rather than break in, Paul suggested that they try the second door first. The boys entered into a kitchen. On one side was a coal stove and an oil burner; against the window was a table with several dirty dishes; a couple of chairs stood by. While Paul examined the closets, Wallace struck a match and tried the oil burner. It burned and that revealed that it had been in recent use. In the closet, Paul found odds and ends of crockery, rags and several pieces of old clothing.
From the kitchen, a swinging door led into the next room—the room the boys could not enter from without. There they saw two open cots with blankets and pillows. A third cot, folded, stood near by. In the middle of the room were a large, round table and four chairs. On the table lay several used candles, a couple of small liquor glasses stood nearby and an empty whiskey bottle. There were some rags and pieces of clothing strewn about. The boys wheeled around on their heels slowly, examining the room closely. Paul spied an overcoat lying in a heap in a corner. He tiptoed slowly across the room and picked it up; very dusty, still it looked like a good coat. He put his hand into the pocket and his fingers touched a cold and hard object. It was an automatic. He whispered across the room to his friend. Paul snapped open the magazine and found it loaded. Pushing back the safety cap, he put the gun into his pocket. Again he picked up the coat and in the second pocket found a box of cartridges. Whispering across the room, the boys decided to appropriate the automatic and cartridges. Walking silently over to join his friend in front of the fireplace, Paul passed a hand over his brow and whispered anxiously, “We’re in the gang’s hangout all right. And I hate to think what would happen to us if we were caught.”
“It would be just too bad,” answered Wallace. “But it’s too late to withdraw now.”
“Yes. But I’m beginning to think that Nuthin’ was right. We should have called in the police.”
“Too late,” repeated Wallace. “We’ll have to make the best of it.”
Coming out into the hall, the boys mounted the stairs, Paul leading and Wallace following. At the head of the stairs they stopped to look around. There were two doors to their left. No attic. Paul tried the first door. It held fast. Pushing and tugging didn’t seem to help. Wallace whispered, “Let’s try the next door.”
The next door swung open at the mere touch of Paul’s hand. Entering, they found the room very dusty but entirely empty. There was a single closet; opening it, that too was found to be empty. They returned to the hall. Wallace whispered, “You think we ought to break in there?”—meaning the first door they tried but found locked or nailed.
Paul shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. What do you think? Is it worth the trouble?”