Now, the restaurant was being transformed into the glory of a hotel. Back of the rear rooms rose the yellow-pine frame of a large wing, intended to contain, when finished, at least seven or eight good-sized rooms.
“Let’s go along this piazza,” proposed Philip, as several minutes elapsed and Mr. Hilliard did not put in his re-appearance. (Mr. Hilliard, it may be explained, was struggling with the tricky lock of his satchel, kneeling on the floor of the car.)
“If he comes back he will think we have got tired of his society,” said Gerald. But presently Philip and he, holding each other’s hands, were stepping airily from one beam to another of the unplanked floor of the new building.
“I suppose he hasn’t found what he went for,” conjectured Philip. “Suppose we climb up that stair yonder. It’s certain to be breezier overhead. Mr. Hilliard will shout if he can’t find us.”
The blue sky overhead, seen through the open rafters, was an inviting background. Up the stair Gerald sped, and, once at the top, called out, “Catch me if you can!” and began scudding along a narrow line of planks resting on the joists.
“Look out, Gerald!” called Philip, half alarmed, half laughing, hurrying after. “You will break your neck! Stop that!”
“Hurrah!” was Gerald’s only reply. The light-footed boy dashed on the length of the addition. A ladder, descending to the floor they had left, appeared through a square opening. He scrambled down. Philip was not much behind. The room beneath was the last of the unfinished “L.” It was also floored over, except where an open trap-door gave entrance to the cellar.
“Here goes!” cried Gerald, as Philip, laughing, but with outstretched hand, and anxious to put an end to this acrobatic business, pressed hard upon him. Down jumped Gerald into the trap. Without an instant’s hesitation Philip leaped after his charge. Both landed, laughing and breathless, in the dry new cellar, the only light coming through the square opening overhead.
“Dear me! Didn’t that take the wind out of me, though?” exclaimed Gerald, leaning against the wall. “That’s an awfully deep cellar. It must be eight or nine feet; it jarred me all over!”
At that instant, shrill and unmistakable, the locomotive whistle broke the current of their thoughts.