A curious thing it was.
A sort of “van” or wing about three feet square, made of a wooden frame with cotton cloth stretched across it, and one side of the frame swung easily in a pair of “journal holes” bored in another and stronger frame.
Below the wing, at right angles to the outside frame, a sort of arm reached down about two inches.
“I don’t see how you’ll make it work,” said Val, “but I suppose you do.”
“Show you when we get there,” said Bar. “Now we must make for the sheds.”
By the time the two boys reached the rear of the Academy there was not a soul stirring in all Ogleport.
Even Dr. Dryer felt safe about the bell, now that the rope had been removed, and he had looked to the doors and windows for himself, that afternoon.
“Are you a good climber, Val?” asked Bar.
“Not very.”
“Then I’ll let you in through that side-door in the basement,” said Bar. “You keep the machine.”