Bob and Joe walked into the burned building. All about were ashes—ashes that had once been the roof of the structure. The charcoal smell was strong about them.
“Don’t know where we’ll keep the cars tonight,” said Joe, glancing up through the hole in the roof.
“Guess we can find room in our garage,” his friend replied. “We only have the one car, and it doesn’t take up all the room by any means.”
“Awfully good of you.”
Suddenly Bob uttered an exclamation that brought his friend hurrying to his side.
“What is it?” Joe asked.
For answer the other youth pointed to a small tin box that was black from being in the fire. It had hung on the wall behind an old radiator hood, which had a moment before fallen to the floor.
“What could that be?” Bob Holton asked. “Does it belong to your dad?”
Joe reached up and took it down from its hanger.
“Has a hole in the top. And what’s that thing protruding from the side?”