A black tail disappeared around the door of the Jackson room.
"Oh, dear, I hope he isn't going to get on that bed." Ricky opened the
door wider. "No, there he goes under instead of on it. Can you see him,
Val?"
Her brother crouched and lifted the edge of the brocaded cover which
swept to the floor. To Val's surprise a thin line of light showed along
the wall at the head of the bed.
"Ricky, look behind the head of the bed! Is it fast against the wall?"
She started to the tall canopied head and pulled the faded fabrics away
from the paneling. "No, there's about two feet here at the bottom. It
doesn't show because the canopy covers it. And, Val, there's an opening
here! Satan's trying to get through!"
"We need a flashlight."
"I'll get Rupert's. Val, promise not to go in--if it _is_ a door--until
I come back!"
"Of course; but hurry."
The flashlight revealed a wide panel which slid upward. Time and damp
had warped the wood so that it no longer fitted snugly to the floor as
the builder had intended. But the same warping made the door defy their
efforts to raise it any higher. At last, by prying and pounding, they
got it up perhaps a yard from the floor. Satan slipped through and they
followed on hands and knees.
They crawled into a small room lighted by two round windows set like
eyes in the side wall. More than three-quarters of the space was filled
with furniture and boxes wrapped in tarred canvas.
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