Page:Henry rideout--The siamese cat.djvu/180

 that dangled from a hook, he slashed away with his big clasp-knife two good square yards of cloth. The cross-beams showed, over two feet apart. Enveloped in trailing strips of mouldy cloth, he stabbed upward at the floor-boards; then grunted in disappointment, for the knife-blade stopped short in seasoned wood, hard as iron.

"Take all night for it, then," he thought, and jabbed again and again, doggedly.

Suddenly the blade ran up, as through cheese, the hilt jarred softly home, and left his hand powdered with dry dust. "White ants!" he whispered, rejoicing. A few slashes carved out a long meandering slit from beam to beam. The rest held firm, but here was a lucky start.

Peering up through the hole, he could discern only obscure light, beneath some smooth, dark surface which he could not explain. He paused for breath, tangled his left wrist thoroughly in