“What are you goin’ to do, then?”
“Make it larger. I came prepared for something of this kind. I have a few tools belonging to ‘Fisher the Engineer,’ who is rusticating at Sing Sing or Auburn at the present time. He was an expert burglar, and he had the neatest outfit of tools I ever saw. The police gave them to the chief, at his request, and I have some of them in my pocket.”
Chick produced a three-jointed crowbar of fine steel, and then brought out a shorter one, in two pieces, which he fitted together and handed to Patsy.
“Pull out those bricks at the top, Patsy. We’ll tackle one at a time simultaneously, and our combined strength, with the leverage we shall get with these ‘jimmies,’ ought to make it easy.”
Chick’s prediction was sound. It took ten minutes of hard, rather dirty work. But the young men had tackled hard work before in the course of their profession, and it did not trouble them.
When, at last, they had bricks enough out to make room for Chick to get through, they chuckled softly in unison.
“I’ll go first, Patsy. If I can make it, there is sure to be room enough for you. Here goes!”
From the top of the boxes Chick crawled through, feet first. He had to go that way, or he would have tumbled in on his head, which would have been uncomfortable, and, perhaps, dangerous.
“All right, Patsy!” he called softly, when he had disappeared through the hole. “Now you come. Don’t be afraid. I’ll catch you as you come in. It will be easier for you than it was for me.”
“Ah! What are you givin’ us, Chick?” rejoined Patsy disgustedly. “Am I ever scared at anything?”