It held beneath his weight, although the ladder creaked warningly.
Cautiously, step by step, he descended.
There was the utmost need for silence. From the position of the flash of light that he had seen through the crack in the boarded window, he judged that the workroom of the counterfeiters was about midway in the mill, immediately below the deserted room into which he was now descending. The mill widened out toward the bottom, and Frank judged that the locked stone room on the ground floor and the room above were those used by the men.
He reached the bottom of the ladder at last, touching the floor without a sound. He whispered back to Joe, and in a few seconds a faint noise from above told him that his brother was also descending into the dark room.
The rumble of machinery was louder and came from directly beneath his feet. Also he could hear a muffled murmur of voices. He had not been mistaken. The workroom was immediately beneath.
Joe reached the bottom of the ladder in silence. Frank groped for the flashlight. He switched it on.
The room in which they were standing was a low-ceilinged, bare chamber, on the far side of which was a doorway that led to a flight of
