He paused in the darkness, his scout heel upon a poor, defenseless crumpled spelling book.

Thus he stood in mingled triumph and agitation, his heart beating fast, every nerve on edge.
"Who--who's there ?" he said.
He moved again, and was startled as his foot slipped off the charred timber on which he was walking.

The brisk autumn wind was playing havoc among the debris, blowing damp pages over faster than anyone could turn them.

It played among a burned chest of old examination papers.
scattering them like dried leaves.

Correct or incorrect, they were all the same now.