A Mission - pt 9 My new rooms and a friend.

Jared was probably the only one of the gang who hadn't been to the tree house, being a very new member, and the instructions so bluntly put by Creakley ( as I later heard him called ) made him stare dumbly at the door through which Creakley had just vanished.  I saw the pitiable plight Jared was in, not knowing where anything was and not wanting to look stupid by chasing Creakley and questioning him, and I hurriedly spoke up to give voice to my opinion.
"Let's go find it!" I said.  He turned to me and shook my hand.  At least he wasn't alone.  From that time on, a sort of friendship started growing up between Jared and I, at least, as much as one can have between a crook's henchman and his news reporter captive.
"All right, come along then."

My new quarters were easier to find than either of us thought it would be, their being right across the hall from the door which Creakley had used, but we passed out through the other door.  When we came out, we heard voices coming from a room to our right, probably Phil and Daren's, but they were to low to distinguish.  Around the corner we saw the door of the room that the voices were issuing from, and on it was a bright brass number,  4  .  We turned to our left and passed a door  ,  3  , and then we came upon door two.
Jared opened it, I entered and the door was shut behind me.  It was a mostly bare room, a piece of rough carpet, a high barred window, and half of the main supporting tree which came through the wall were it's only variations.  I flung myself down on the dirty carpet and fell fast asleep.


When I awoke, I surveyed my surroundings.  The walls were of wood paneling, stained a dark, sombre color, and the color of the tree half which protruded blended nicely with them.  I glanced around for the source of the warm, dim, light which pervaded the room, but I couldn't see it anywhere!  The light was spread evenly, there wasn't one especially bright spot, or any dark spot, it was as if the the air itself was light.  I pondered on this for a while, but not given to vain speculations, I decided to tidy up my cell, for indeed, dust lay everywhere.  I rolled up the bit of carpet after shaking it thoroughly, and leaned it in a corner.  Then, using my jacket, I swept the dust as well as I could into another corner.  After this was completed, I inspected the tree.  The bark was firm and smooth, it had evidently not been spared when the rest of the room was sprayed with the clear glue type stuff that protects wood from rot and pests.