Mark Tidd, Editor Part 41

"Somebody in here," yelled Jethro. "They got the door fastened."

"Bust it," says the Man With the Black Gloves.

Jethro tried that, but we didn't worry much, knowing what was against it.

"Can't budge it," says he.

There wasn't a sound for a minute. Then the Man called out:

"Hey, inside there! Who are you and what d'you want?"

Mark pinched my arm and motioned to keep still.

"Come out of there," says Jethro, and I felt like giggling. Not that I wasn't afraid. Whee! I should say I was afraid. The chills that was running up and down my back was enough to freeze my spine into an icicle.

"They can't g-get at us," says Mark. "Let's use what t-time we got to see if we can trace out the rest of Mr. Wigglesworth's writin'. The last part of it says, 'In. Down.' We're _that_ all right. Then it says, 'What color is a brick? Investigate.' That comes next. What color _is_ a brick, Binney?"

"Brick color," says I.

"No?" says he. "G'wan! I thought it was the color of a orange blossom."

"Red, then," says I. "Most of 'em is."

"This cellar's b-built of red brick," says he.

"Sure," says I.

"Then," says he, "it's safe to s-s-say this s-secret's got somethin' to do with these bricks here."

"Yes," says I.

"Git the lamp," says he, which I did. We felt all over for loose bricks and things like that. Sort of figgered we'd find a hiding-place somewheres, but we didn't, and all the time Jethro and the Man were doing their best to get the door open.

"Hustle," says I.

"What's the use?" says he. "We can't git out any more 'n they kin git in."

Pretty soon Mark says, "Color's got some-thin' to do with it, too.

Bricks and color," says he.

He grabbed the lamp and went all around the room. All at once he stopped and called soft to me. "Binney!"

"Yes," says I.

"Look," says he.

I looked where he was pointing, and up toward the top of the wall was a brick that wasn't brick color! It was a pale-complected brick-almost white.

"What color is a brick?" says Mark, and heaved a big sigh of relief.

"Kin you reach it?" says I.

"No," says he. "Here, step on my back."

He stooped over, and I stepped where he told me. It was like standing on a platform to speak a piece, his back was so broad. I thought a little of the feller in the _Arabian Nights_ that got off on an island and built a fire, and then the island dived, because it was a whale. Only Mark didn't dive.

I reached up and fumbled with the brick. It was wedged pretty tight, but it wasn't plastered. I got a holt of the edge with my nails and wiggled and monkeyed with it, till it came out, and then I shoved my arm back into the hole that was left-and my fingers touched something that felt like a big envelope full of something. I hauled it out and jumped down.

"There," says I, "we got somethin', but much good it's likely to do us."

Mark was almost jumping up and down he was so tickled. He held the envelope up to the light, and read on it, "Take this envelope to Lawyer Jones or some other trustworthy lawyer."

"Jest what I'd 'a' done, anyhow," says he.

Then he stuffed the paper inside of his shirt, and stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled three times. When Jethro and the Man heard that they stopped working at the door, but when nothing else happened they went at it again.

We waited, too. Quite a while went past, and the only thing we heard was Jethro and the Man.

"Can't be Plunk and Tallow has deserted us," says I.

"N-n-never," says Mark-and just then we heard an awful kicking and pounding on the front door, and jangling of the bell in the kitchen, and the fellers' voices hollering, "Fire! Fire! Fire!" as tight as they could.

"Good kids," says Mark. "Git ready, Binney." Ready was somethin' I'd been for several hours.

CHAPTER XXI

We heard Jethro and the Man With the Black Gloves dash up-stairs, and they hadn't hit the top step before Mark and I began clearing away the door so we could get out. It didn't take us long, you bet, and it didn't take us long to open the outside door and get out into the yard.

"A-arbor," says Mark, and we made for that as tight as we could go.

Plunk and Tallow had quit hollerin' fire, and in a minute along they plunged and came right in on top of us.

"Where's Rock?" says Mark. "See him?"

"No."

"We're s-safe," says he. "Let's see if we can't rescue the young Duke. I guess he's goin' to need rescuin' perty quick."

"There's a light in his room," says I.

"Let him know we're here," says Mark, and I whanged a stone out of my sling-shot right through the open window. Rock stuck his head out.

"I'm goin' to sneak over in the shadow," says I, "and tell him to come down."

Off I went, not waiting for anybody to say anything, and got to the house all right. There was plenty of bushes and things to hide behind, and when I got there I called Rock, cautious.