“Well, it’s all come back to us, anyhow, except what you wasted in Colon—one sack was all you took, wasn’t it?”
“Only one, Hen. Yes, it’s come back. Now we’d better get it and get the papers out from where the stove used to be——”
“And we was pulling up boards in the wrong place. That’s kids for you—she remembers where she hid stuff and her brother tells us as nice as pie and never plans to bother to look. Thinks his sister has forgot—like that silly old codger, Jack, we saw down to Porto Bello!”
“Yep! Well, Hen, let’s get in through the window—or will you let me hand you the sacks and you take ’em to where we got the burros tied?”
“We’ll work right together,” Henry declared. “Here, you get in there and I’ll be right behind you. Watch. Go easy. Don’t come down hard onto the guard—I hit him and he dropped inward—don’t step on ’im if you can help it!”
“I won’t—but they ain’t any guard here.”
“Maybe he crawled off from under the window. Get in—let me get there after you. Hurry, you slow poke.”
Mort hastened all his fat bulk would permit. Then Henry got in.
“That’s strange,” he said. “I was sure the guard fell in the room when I poked the cudgel down onto his fat head! But, he must of come to life and crawled off. Don’t hear nothing so he hasn’t sounded any alarm!”
“Got the flashlight? Turn it this way.”