Mid-way up to the tower, the boy halted to listen. Brad, pressing close behind, also became alert.
Neither had heard any disturbing sound. Yet they both sensed that they would run into something, once they turned the next curve in the stairway.
Dan waited as long as he dared, and then crept on. Another step. Two, three, four.
Nearing the top now, he could feel a rush of cool air on his face.
Suddenly, Dan was brought up short. Above him, in the belfry, he had heard a scraping sound, as if a heavy object had been pulled across the floor.
Brad too, stiffened. Afraid even to whisper, the boys huddled together, listening. From time to time they could hear slight movements in the belfry. Once they thought someone gave a deep sigh.
Finally, Dan gathered his courage, and moved up another step. The bend in the stairway now lay directly ahead. Once that point was passed, they would have a clear view of the belfry.
With Brad at his elbow, Dan negotiated the last few feet. Stunned by what he saw, he gripped the iron railing with both hands.
The great bell hung in the turret, its dark clapper motionless. Beyond the hollow metallic vessel, almost at the edge of its flaring mouth, was a bed of blankets!
As Dan’s gaze fixed upon the bedding, he beheld the figure of a drowsing man. The fellow stirred sleepily, yawned and sat up.