The doctor did not stop to help Mr. Edgerton find the key; he threw his weight against the door I pointed out again and again. It went open with a crash at last, after I had thought that the doctor would have stove his own side in first.
There was no smoke on this side of the house, but it followed us from the hallway, choking the throat and stinging the eyes. There was the box in the middle of the room.
Now we were all three encouraging one another and shouting for haste. Twice did the lawyer drop the bunch of keys as he tried to fit the lock.
"Take them, lad," he cried at last, looking over his shoulder; "your fingers are the nimbler. But make haste!" The tears were pouring down his face; he hurriedly rose from his knees, and, making a leap for the window, kicked out the glass and the shutter that had been nailed fast, and thrust his head to the air, coughing, struggling, and gagging as if his last day had come.
In the mean time the doctor was bending over, with his face close to mine, and whispering admonitions to be cool; but his hand on my shoulder shook as if the ague had possession of him. Upon my soul, I think I was the coolest of the three! Key after key I tried without success. Suddenly the doctor slipped his fingers into the handle at the end.
"OUT OF THE WINDOW WITH IT!" HE SPLUTTERED.
"Out the window with it!" he spluttered. "What jack-asses! What dunces! Bear a hand here, Edgerton!"
The lawyer turned back into the room. He took the other end of the box, and they heaved with all their strength, I, still on my knees, helping them. We might as well have tried to pull the big oak before the house up by the roots.
"It's nailed down!" roared the lawyer, running his fingers along the edge.