“Battery’s dead. Have to use a candle.”
A candle was brought. Then while Marion sat on the chair, Florence climbed the back of it and thrust her head and shoulders through the hole.
“See anything?” Marion asked breathlessly.
“No, not a—yes, there’s something, a black bulk over there in the corner. It’s a—”
“A chest, of course!” Marion was quite beside herself with excitement. Without thinking she sprang to her feet. The next instant the chair toppled over and Florence, lighted candle and all, came crashing down upon it.
“Wha—what did you do that for?” she demanded, once she had regained the breath that had been knocked from her by the fall.
“I—I forgot!” said Marion. “Truly I’m sorry. Let’s try again.”
“Not that way,” said Florence, rubbing her bruises. “The bed will be better. Come on, let’s push it over.”
The bed was soon under the hole and a moment later the two girls, closely followed by an agile old man, were creeping from beam to beam toward the bulk in the dark.
“I know it’s the chest of gold,” whispered Marion.