"Sure," Ron said. When the door closed and the elevator ascended, he grinned too. Being twelve had its advantages sometimes.
He got off the elevator, and a uniformed guard checked his paper and led him into an anteroom.
"You wait here, son," he said, and left.
Ron waited five minutes. When nothing happened, he tried an adjoining door. It was open. He stepped inside the next room, and saw that it was a bare room with nothing but a row of filing cabinets and an abandoned swivel chair with a definite list to port.
He went to the files and peered at the designation cards.
They read:
PROJECT SCHOLAR.
He shrugged, and tried to open the top file. It was locked. He tried the others, with no better luck.
Then he heard the voices in the anteroom.
For some reason, he sensed danger. He knew he shouldn't be in the file room, that if he were found his visit to Dr. Minton might come to a sudden end. He couldn't take the chance. He tiptoed to the front door of the file room and turned the knob. He slipped out, and ran on his toes down the empty corridor.