safety. A faint, earthy smell rose from the foundations. Suddenly,
with a yell of triumph, Jonah stooped, and picked up a dirty ball of paper.
As he lifted it, a glittering coin fell out.

"W'y, wot's this?" he cried, looking curiously at the wad of discoloured
paper. One side had been chewed to a pulp by something small and sharp.
"Rats an' mice!" cried Jonah.

"They've boned the paper ter make their nests. Every dollar's 'ere,
if we only look."

"Thank Gawd!" said Mrs Yabsley, heaving a tremendous sigh. "Ada, go an'
git a jug o' beer."

In an hour Jonah had recovered twenty-eight of the missing coins; the
remaining two had evidently been dragged down to their nests by the
industrious vermin. Late in the afternoon Jonah, who looked like a sweep,
gave up the search. The kitchen was a wreck. Mrs Yabsley sat with the
coins in her lap, feasting her eyes on this heap of glittering gold, for
she had rubbed each coin till it shone like new. Her peace of mind was
restored, but it was a long time before she could think of rats and mice
without anger.




CHAPTER 9