Scoop was waiting for me at the roof edge. He gave me a lift. I was glad, let me tell you, when I had something firm under my feet once again.
“Jinks!” I panted. “That was hard work.”
“S-h-h-h! Get your wind, Jerry. Take your time. We’ve got all night.”
I sat down on the roof, concluding that this was the quickest way to rest myself and get rid of the trembling in my arms.
As my wind came back, and the trembling diminished, I gave a curious eye to my surroundings. It didn’t seem so dark now. I could trace the rectangle of the mill’s roof. And I could distinguish the shape of near-by tree tops. In the direction of town I could see dozens of lights in [[134]]houses and on street corners. This wasn’t the first time that I had been on the mill roof—one time, in our play, the fellows had shut me up there for nearly an hour—but somehow the surroundings seemed strange and unfamiliar to me in the darkness. I had the feeling, too, that I was in danger of falling.
After a little bit I got up, ready for business.
A box-like shape stood out in the darkness ahead of us. This was the office that Mr. Matson had added to his mill. He had built it on the flat roof. There was no door opening onto the roof, but there were four windows, one on each side of the small building, and it was through one of these windows that we had planned to enter the mill.
But, to our disappointment, the windows were locked.
“Dog-gone!” muttered Scoop. “He’s fastened them on the inside.” There was a moment’s silence. “Well,” he added, “what are we going to do?”
“You’re the leader,” I reminded.