"We wouldn't take any blue ribbons at a brains' show—that's certain," affirmed Tom Reade.
The cook shack went up to a pitched roof. Up under the roof some brackets had been made fast to the rafters. These brackets held a quantity of rough boards that looked as though they had been stored up there, years ago, to season indoors. Now, a rope hung down from this artificial garret.
"Let's see what we can find up there," suggested Dick. Taking hold of the rope, after shedding his overcoat, Prescott ascended, hand over hand.
"This is where Fitsey stayed daytimes," Dick called down. "And it's not a bad place, either. Here are two fur robes."
Dick tumbled them down below, followed by four pairs of warm blankets.
"It's all stolen stuff, I'll wager," Tom called.
"Likely enough," agreed Dick.
"See if you can find a lot of gold and gems up there," proposed Greg Holmes.
"Nothing in that line. But stand below, two of you, and catch."
Dick began to toss down canned goods, sealed paper cartons of crackers, canned fruits and the like.