“It’s my turn next—and Gertie’s!” declared Chicken Little.
“All right, crawl along. Perhaps you won’t mind it if I follow, too,” Dick replied, smiling.
They took Ernest’s room next. Chicken Little slid past the coats and trousers and much accumulated junk which untidy Ernest had piled in on the closet floor. She knocked over a baseball bat in her haste and disappeared in under the eaves so promptly that Gertie felt quite deserted and decided she didn’t want to go into that nasty dark place.
It was all Dick could do to follow. In fact he was afraid he was going to stick, the passage was so narrow. His overalls were run through with slivers from the rough boards. Fortunately, only one penetrated his skin.
Chicken Little cheered him on by calling back.
“I’ve found some newspapers. Hurry up with the lantern.”
It was a triangular space made by the gable. Chicken Little couldn’t quite stand up and Dick could get no further than his knees. A big pile of dusty newspapers lay on the rafters. They had apparently been shoved carelessly in.
“Let’s get them out to the light. I’ll back out and you pass them through to me.”
Jane did as she was bid, handing out a few at a time but just as she lifted the last layer, gave a squeal.
“There’s something alive here!”