“Come on, I’m going in!” exclaimed Elmer. “It’s mean to make Bobby do it all. We were all playing. I’m going to help him find the ball.”
The rest of the boys followed Elmer’s lead. One by one they scrambled up to the little window and squeezed through. Once inside, they found the shop so fascinating that they had to stop and look around before they began to search for the missing ball.
“What do you suppose this is?” cried Fred, pointing to a queer tool that lay on the workbench.
“I don’t know—don’t touch anything,” said Bobby. “I wish I could see the ball. Oh, here’s a cat!”
Sure enough, a sleek gray and white cat lay curled up on a coat in one corner of the room. She opened her eyes sleepily and stared at Bobby and when he patted her she purred gently.
“Here’s the ball!” shouted Elmer Lambert. “Look, it rolled under this basket. Pitch it out of the window, Fred, and then we’ll go.”
“But I want to see how this works,” said Fred, who was examining a box that clamped to a block of steel. “Just wait a minute, can’t you? I want to see if I can work it.”
“All right, you wait and the carpenter man will come along and catch us,” Bobby told him. “Then I guess you’ll be sorry.”
The mention of the carpenter was enough for Fred. He tossed his precious football out of the window and climbed after it, hastily followed by the other boys. All breathed a sigh of relief as they landed safely on the ground.
“H. Bennett,” read Bobby, looking up at the sign which hung over the door. “Does Mr. H. Bennett own the shop, Bertrand?”