By the time that a match was struck in the upper floor they were lying, crouched, under a number of the burlap bags.
“Not here! Guess the kid was scared and ran away.”
“Wait, though.” Bob’s breath almost stopped. Had the other man who came up discovered the sacking?
“Wait, though,” the man repeated. “We meant to compare the books tonight; that’s why I took all the trouble with those stunts, to have a logical excuse for landing here. We can’t, now! Those kids may have telephoned somebody—whoever they’re working for. Suppose we hide the books, and get together tomorrow night. I’ll take the crate back and come over by train.”
“Good way.”
In their stuffy concealment the brothers heard steps, low muttered suggestions. Evidently a place to sequester the company records was selected. The youths quivered and Al nearly screamed aloud as a sack was dragged from the top of the pile. But the sack did not pull off the ones they clung to over their perspiring heads.
“That’s the stuff! On that shelf, and cover ’em up. Nobody would think of that place.”
“Won’t Barney miss them?”
“Let him worry a little. It will do him good!”
The voices receded. The heavy tread ceased. Scuffling sounds told the brothers that the men had descended the ladder.