However, it was hard to corner Artie long enough to talk to him alone, as Sig discovered the next day. In the first place Artie was late in reaching the bus stop, getting in just before the bus pulled out, and so sitting at the very front. And he was off and away before Sig could catch up with him. But at homeroom time Sig got him by the arm.

“Listen”—he made it fast because Artie was pulling against his hold, looking beyond Sig to where the Ross guy and those fellows he ran around with were in a huddle—“listen, Artie, I’ve got to tell you something important—”

Now Ross went up to talk to Mr. Evans and Artie relaxed, looked at Sig as if he had just seen him.

“What?” His tone was impatient.

“You know that big old house, the one they are going to tear down, the one at the corner?”

“Sure. What’s so important about that?”

Artie was again trying to look around Sig. But Sig planted himself firmly before the smaller boy, intent on gaining his interest.

“My mom knows a lady who used to work there. She said that the old guy who owned it kept some rooms locked up, wouldn’t ever let her look in them. You remember last year when we went to the museum and they showed us all those old things he gave them—the things out of tombs he dug up in different places? Maybe he didn’t give them all away, maybe some are still in those locked rooms. Treasure, Artie!”

“You’re crazy. They wouldn’t be left there now, not when the whole house is going to be torn down.” But Artie was looking at Sig now, was listening. “You ought to know that!”

“I asked Mom this morning. She said nobody had been inside much since the old guy died. The lawyer said all the things inside were to go to the Good Will people, but they haven’t come yet to haul them away. Mrs. Chandler has the house keys and nobody’s asked for them. So that means maybe something’s still there.”

“If it’s all locked up, how are you going to get in?”

Sig grinned. “There’re ways.” He was not quite sure what ways, but he would not tell Artie that. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure that there was treasure just waiting to be found. And it would not hurt anyone to take it. The old guy did not have any family. And if it was all just going to be given to the Good Will—

“When are you going to do it?” Artie had stopped fidgeting so much, was listening carefully now.