Gerald followed the boy to the house. His companion opened the outer door, and revealed a steep staircase covered with a very ragged oil-cloth, and led the way up.
“Come along!” he said.
When he reached the head of the first flight he kept on.
“Is it any higher up?”
“Yes, one story furder.”
Gerald followed the boy, inhaling, as he went up, musty and disagreeable odors, and felt that if it had not been on an errand of mercy he would have been inclined to retreat and make his way back to the street.
The boy pushed on to the rear room on the third floor, and opened the door a little way.
“Come in!” he said.
Gerald followed him in, and began to look around for the mother whom he had come to see. But the room appeared to be empty.
A sound startled him. It was the sound of a key in the lock. He turned quickly and found that his boy guide had mysteriously disappeared and left him alone.