"Look's like a
bloke's--"
Mike's fingers squeezed his arm tighter, evidently again claiming his
attention. "My hat, we needn't look far for the stuff!" he whispered. An
uneasy whisper it was; the whole place looked queer, and that hole was
uncanny--it had its contents.
Yet they approached nearer; they came to the edge and stood looking in.
As though he could not believe the mere sight of his eyes, big Neddy
crouched down, reached out his hand, and took up Mr. Saffron's scepter.
With a look of half-scared amazement he held it up for his companion's
inspection. Mike eyed it uneasily, but his thoughts were getting back to
business. He stole softly off to the door, with intent to see whether it
was locked; he stooped down to examine it and perceived that it was not.
It would be well, then, to barricade it, and he turned round to look for
some heavy bit of furniture suitable for his purpose, something that
would delay the entrance of an intruder and give them notice of the
interruption.
As he turned, his body suddenly stiffened; only his trained instinct
prevented him from crying out.
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