There was a sharp tussle but the old, centuries old wood was not proof against the fresh young strength measured against it. It suddenly gave way and a couple of yards fell with a clatter and cloud of dust, hurling the boys flat on the top of the bed canopy, which swayed in an alarming manner.
They shoved the paneling over the edge, and stood up. Once more their candles were out, but Porky lit a match and soon the little flame made a light about them. Beany kicked something with his toe.
"What's that?" he said.
"Don't know," said Porky, rubbing his hands together. "There's a couple more of them.
"Don't bother with that junk! Bundles of rags, I suppose. We have got to get out of here. You don't know what those spies will be up to next."
But Beany, always curious, ripped a hole in the side of the rough, pouch in his hand.
"It's full of gold money," he said.
"My word!" said Porky, looking down from the chair. "Scoop 'em all into your pockets, for the love of Mike!"
"Pockets!" said Beany scornfully. "There's a couple of quarts of stuff in these three bags!"
He slipped out of his blouse and, tying the sleeves together, made a sort of bag in which he carefully placed the sacks. Then he stepped carefully across their swaying platform and steadied the chair on which his brother stood with the sword hilt thrust between the huge rafters against the floor above.