Later the girl climbed a set of stairs to her uncle's office situated at the highest room in the school, the old library. A mysterious disembodied sonorous breathing like a death rattle echoed down the stairway. Arcelia peered into the wood paneled office to find her uncle snoring in his chair. Aged floor planks of random lengths squeaked as she stepped into the shabby room.

"Micro-naps, Einstein used to take them," her uncle said out of habit waking with an involuntary start. "Oh, Arcelia, what can I do for..." fumbling a sandwich mustard spilt on the deed in his pocket. "Oops," he said, crumpling up the legal document and tossing it in the waste bin to Arcelia's surprise. He took out another copy from his desk to stick in his jacket. "I have never found the original," he chuckled. "After the Great Crash, the old miser didn't trust banks so he stashed away his valuables." He continued, "That reminds me. Arcelia, can you watch the museum gift shop while I go down the hill to Prince's for supplies?"