solid four walls of rubble stone and plaster, but these thus far ran straight up, wide enough apart to permit the passage of my body.
With the next burst of melody from below, now somewhat mellowed by distance and the intervening walls, I made another attempt to ascend, but had scarcely attained more than a foot or two when my right hand plunged into a wide opening. Clinging as best I could to a precarious footing, I ran my arm deeper in until I came in contact with a tin covering, which yielded easily to the pressure of my fingers, and finally fell rather noisily to the floor. I paused, startled at the sound, but no gleam of light came through the opening, and I instantly realized that the attic was unoccupied. The rattle of the tin would, in all probability, create no alarm because of the din below.
I knew now exactly where I was, the only immediate problem being my ability to squeeze through that narrow space. The oldtime burner had evidently been removed, and a tin cap fitted over the chimney hole. I wiggled my way in head first, shoulders drawn together, hands gripping the outer edge, and feet pressed strong against the inside of the chimney. At first it seemed as if I hardly moved, and I was wedged so closely that every attempt to breathe gave me pain; yet to crush my way forward was easier
