“What are we waiting for?” Brook demanded.
“You,” Jimmy returned. “‘Lead on, Macduff.’”
After that they saved their breath and hurried silently through the mud and underbrush until at last they emerged into a little clearing.
“This is it,” Brook said. “Get out your magnifying glass, Sherlock.”
Jimmy sank down on his knees and examined the footprints carefully. “Rubber heels,” he mumbled triumphantly, “and made by the same manufacturer! See that crescent with a circle around it? It’s a trademark.”
“Golly!” Alf and Brook yelled in one voice.
Jimmy stood up. “There’s only one hitch in the whole deal. I’m sure now that there’s something buried under the old shed, but Phil will never let us dig for it as long as we need the shed for a garage.”
“Holy cow,” Alf groaned. “Then that means you’ll find a barrel of gold after we’ve gone back to school.”
“Just our luck,” Brook said disconsolately. “I’m never around when there’s any excitement!”
Jimmy threw back his head and howled with laughter. “About an hour ago,” he reminded Brook, “you were the very center of excitement. Cheer up,” he added. “Maybe when we get back and find that the fragment you found fits the one the girls found, we’ll be able to read something that’ll convince Phil and Penny we should do something about the ground under the shed.”