Artie grabbed the knob in turn, tried to open the door.

“So it’s locked, so now how are you going to get it open? Recite something to it, maybe, like that guy in the fairy tale I read to my sister last night.” Artie stepped back, threw up his hands as if he were about to perform some feat of magic, and said in a deep voice, “Open, sesame!”

“You wait, you just wait!” Sig could not be defeated, not now, not with Artie grinning at him that way. He ran back to the front room and got a poker he had seen by the fireplace. But when he brought it back Artie looked surprised—not only surprised but frightened.

“Now look here, Sig, you go breaking things up and you’ll be in bad trouble. There were a couple of guys I heard about that got into a house and broke up stuff. And then they were arrested, and their folks had to go down to the police station and get them. I don’t want any part of breaking stuff up. It’s late, my mom will be wondering where I am. I’m going right now!”

“Go on,” Sig retorted. “Go on. You won’t get any of the treasure.”

“There’s no treasure, anyway. And you’re just asking for trouble, Sig Dortmund!”

Artie turned and ran. For a moment Sig was ready to follow him. Then, stubbornly, he went back to the door. There was a treasure, he knew there was. And he would have it all to himself now. Let Artie beat it; Artie was chicken.

Sig raised the poker awkwardly, but when he touched the door it just swung right open. It was not locked, after all. He dropped the poker, to use the flashlight. There were two windows, but they had shutters closed tightly across them. Sig had never seen shutters inside a house before. Usually they were hung for trimming on the outside. In fact, he had not known they could be closed. There was a table right in the middle of the room, a chair by it, and nothing else at all. Except a box on the table. Sig crossed to look at it.

Velvety dust all over, which he smeared away quickly. Then the flashlight picked up bright colors, so bright they seemed to glitter. There was a picture, or rather four pictures, for the top of the box was quartered into four sections. And the pictures—were pictures of dragons!

The dragon at the top was a silvery color and it had wings. It was holding up its clawed forefeet as if it were going to attack. Its red tongue, which was forked at the end like a snake’s, stuck straight out of its mouth, and its green eyes stared directly at Sig.