“Gold!” I cried.
“Shall we break it open, or shall we let the girl open it? It’s hers.”
“We better hand it over to her as it is,” advised Peg.
We started for the stairs, anxious to get away from the dangerous territory. [[190]]
“I guess old soapy will get an awful shock when he comes home and sees how we’ve messed up his sun parlor,” laughed Scoop, looking back at the torn-up floor.
“He’ll want to kill us,” I shivered.
“He ought to be in jail,” grunted Peg.
“I’d feel a lot safer,” I said quickly, “if he was in jail.”
A horse whinnied.
“Romeo!” cried Scoop, stopping abruptly on the stairs.