Bob kept close behind her.  If he cared little for old houses, he cared much for Sally, and he liked to see her eyes sparkle and her lips laugh.  Sally had times of being very sad and discouraged, as no one knew so well as he, and if she could find interest in this old barracks—­he thought Alec had struck the right word—­he was not the boy to dampen it.

“Let’s skip up this back staircase, Bobby,” proposed Sally, as they turned about from exploring the kitchen and store-rooms.  “I’m crazy to find if there aren’t some smaller rooms—­nice, cozy ones, you know.  It can’t be all so big everywhere.”

“Don’t you suppose the upstairs rooms are just the shape of the lower ones?” suggested Bob, as they ran up.

“In front, perhaps, but not back here.  There ought to be some lovely rambling passageways, and steps up and steps down, and rooms where you don’t expect them, and a splendid attic—­and perhaps a secret staircase.  Bob—­what if there should actually be a secret staircase!”

Bob laughed.  “You’ve been reading spooky stories.  I suppose—­”

“Robert Rudd Lane!  Will you behold that little flight of five steps, leading up to that door!”

Sally was down the hall and up the five steps in a flash.  She would have burst into the unknown region beyond, but a locked door barred her way.  Bob stood below and laughed at her baffled expression.  “You’d rather see through that door than into any other spot in the house that isn’t locked up, wouldn’t you, Sally Lunn?” he commented, knowingly.

“Run down to Max for the keys, will you, dear?” she begged, and Bob ran.

The others came up.  Max and Bob, Alec, and even Uncle Timothy, tried every key in the bunch in vain.  Sally attempted to peer through the key-hole.  Bob ran outside, and returning reported that there were no shutters in the region opposite the probable position of the door.

“It’s undoubtedly a dark store-room, with a row of empty shelves,” said Max.  “Give it up, Sally.  There are places enough to explore.  A regiment of infantry could be bivouacked in this second story.  See the rooms, and rooms inside of rooms.”

“Oh, come away home!” cried Alec, impatiently, before Sally was half satisfied.

“I’m going over to the timber tract.  You’d better come along, Al.  Let Sally stay here and plan her hotel.  Maxwell Inn—­eh, Sally?  A number on each door, and a fire-escape at each end of the hall.  A bell-boy and two chambermaids for this floor; in time, an elevator and a manicure shop!” And Max clattered laughing away down the front staircase, the shallow steps of which he took two at a time.

“It isn’t a very cozy nest, is it, Sis?” said Bob, sympathetically, as Sally, after one look into the great square rooms over the front, closed the doors with a bang.

At mention of the timber tract Uncle Timothy had gone downstairs after the others.  They heard him shut the front door, and from an upper window saw him walking briskly away.