“That’s a funny thing,” Jack whispered. “They don’t usually even have locks on the doors up here.”
“There’s no lock on this one either, unless it’s a bolt on the inside,” Bob said. “More than likely he’s got something propped against it.”
“Well, it don’t make much difference either way,” Jack whispered. “It’s fastened and we want to get in, and the main question is, how are we going to do it.”
“The only way is the little window at the back. Think you can squeeze through it? It’s open.”
“I’ll try anything once,” Jack replied as he started back.
The window was all of six feet from the ground, as the shed at the back rested on piles driven into the soil. It was small and was not glassed in, a piece of burlap serving to keep out the snow and rain. But this was now drawn aside.
“Great guns! A good-sized cat couldn’t get through that hole,” Rex declared as Bob flashed his light upward.
“S-hh,” Bob whispered. “Keep quiet a minute. If there should be anyone awake in there he’ll see that flash.”
But although they waited several minutes, all was still and only the sound of the sleeper inside as he breathed came to their ears.
“I guess it’s all right,” Bob whispered. “When it comes to getting through a small hole Jack’s more than half cat,” he explained to Rex, who nevertheless shook his head doubtfully.