“ ‘Jiggers,’ ” a voice called.
Peg saw my white face.
“Don’t be scared, Jerry. He can’t get us. When he comes into the mill, we’ll go down the rope. We’ve got it ready.”
So down the rope we went, joining the girl in the mill yard.
“Here’s your grandfather’s fortune,” Scoop grinned, handing her the metal box.
She gave a cry. It was the gladdest, happiest cry I had ever heard. And she took the box and hugged it in her arms.
“Oh!” she cried.
We could hear the soap man in the mill.
“Let’s go over to the house,” suggested Scoop, “where we can lock ourselves in if necessary. [[191]]For we don’t know what the old coot is liable to do.”
Fortified in the brick house, we broke open the metal box. But, to our disappointment, it contained no money. Not a penny. Its only content was the ten-ring puzzle that Mr. Matson had made just before he met with his awful death.