Dick Harding followed Ernest in. There was just about room enough for him to get to his feet. He gave Ernest a lift to his shoulder. This brought the boy’s eyes about five inches above the partition. Ernest waved the tiny lantern about distractedly in an effort to pierce the gloom about him.
“Hold the lantern still and just look. Your eyes will grow accustomed to the dimness pretty soon and then you can see if there’s anything there.”
Ernest obeyed and in a few moments was able to see across to the slanting roof opposite.
“Not a thing but rafters and cobwebs,” he reported at last in disgust.
“Shift your lantern and look again carefully—we don’t want to miss anything. You don’t see any old boxes or piles of papers do you?”
“Nope.”
“Nothing that looks like a bundle of old letters? Take the lantern in the other hand and hold it out as far as you can.”
“Not a blamed thing but a piece of old board and it’s sticking up so there’s nothing under it.”
“Well, I really didn’t suppose there would be. It would be too difficult a place to reach, but I wanted to be sure,” returned Dick. “How many more closets are there?”
“Three.”