“Have a roll and some chocolate with us,” Mrs. Hatfield invited.
“I’ve had my breakfast,” Dan replied, eyeing the sugary hot roll with a greedy eye.
“Oh, a growing boy always can eat a little more,” Mrs. Hatfield laughed, offering him a chair. “Do have something with us, Dan.”
Thus urged, the boy slid into the seat by the window. As he sipped hot chocolate, he told Mr. Hatfield what the milkman had reported.
“An elderly woman in black!” Mrs. Hatfield exclaimed. “I can’t imagine!”
“You’ve had no cleaning woman?” asked Dan.
“Not in weeks, Dan. And no visitors at such an early hour of the morning.”
“I locked all the doors that night we brought the box here,” Mr. Hatfield said slowly.
“The one opening into the cellar?” his wife asked him.
“Well—I’m not sure.”