They went up a narrow staircase and emerged into a dark garret, running the whole length of the house without a partition. The beams and rafters were visible, for the sloping sides were not plastered. Herbert felt that he might as well have been in the barn, except that there was a small cot bedstead in the center of the floor.
“It isn't very pleasant,” said the housekeeper.
“No,” said Herbert, “I don't think it is.”
“I declare, it's too bad you should have to sleep here. Mr. Holden isn't very considerate.”
“I guess I can stand it,” said our hero, “though I should rather be downstairs.”
“I'll bring up the trap and set it before you go to bed,” said Mrs. Bickford.
“The trap!” repeated Herbert, in surprise.
“Yes, there's rats about, and I suppose you'd rather have a trap than a cat.”
“Yes; the cat would be about as bad as the rats.”
At this moment Abner Holden's voice was heard at the bottom of the stairs, and Mrs. Bickford hurried down, followed by our hero.