The Turner Twins

“Not exactly. Anyhow, it doesn’t swing out, so what’s the – ”

“Hold on!” Bob sprang forward and seized the edge of a shelf in the right-hand tier close to the partition board, and pulled. It readily yielded an inch, but no more.

“Wait!” Laurie bent and pulled aside the box of jars. “Now!”

Then, as Bob tugged, to their amazement the right-hand tier swung toward them, its lower edge scraping on the cement floor, and the left-hand tier swung with it, the whole back wall of the closet, shelves and all, opening toward them like a pair of double doors!

“Gee!” whispered Laurie. “What do you suppose – ”

“Pull them wide open and let’s find out,” said Bob recklessly.

When the two sides were open as far as they would go, there was an aperture between them some three feet wide. Beyond it was darkness, though, as they gazed, the stones of the cellar wall took shape dimly. Then Laurie seized Bob’s arm.

“Look!” he whispered excitedly. Behind, where the left-hand tier of shelves had stood, was a blacker patch about three feet high by two feet wide, which, as they stared in fascination, evolved itself into an opening in the wall.

“Know what I think?” asked Bob, in low tones. “I think we’ve found the miser’s hiding-place, Nod!”

“Honest? Maybe it’s just a – a drain or something. Got a match?”

“There are some over by the furnace. Hold your horses!” Bob hurried out, and was back in a moment and was standing at the opening between the doors with a lighted match held toward the opening in the wall. As the little light grew they saw that the stones of the wall had been removed from a space of a foot above the floor and three feet high and some two feet wide. Around the opening so made cement had been applied in the form of a smooth casing.

The match flickered and went out, and in the succeeding gloom the two boys stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Would you dare go in there?” asked Laurie.

“Sure! Why not? It can’t be anything but a sort of cave underground. Wait till I get a candle.”

“A lantern would be better,” suggested Laurie, viewing the hole dubiously.

“That’s so, and there’s one here somewhere. I noticed it the other day.” Bob’s voice came from the cellar beyond, and Laurie heard him walking around out there. Then, “I’ve got it!” Bob called. “There’s oil in it, too! Now we’ll have a look!”

Laurie heard the chimney of the lantern squeak as it was forced up and then drop into place again. Then a wan light came toward the closet, and Bob appeared, triumphant and excited. “Wait till I turn it up a bit. There we are! Come on!”

They passed through between the doors, Bob leading, and stooped before the hole in the wall. Bob held the lantern inside, and Laurie peered over his shoulder. “Gee, it’s high,” whispered the latter.

“Yes, and it isn’t a cave at all; it’s a tunnel!” said Bob, in awed tones. “What do you say?”

“I’ll go, if you will,” replied Laurie, stoutly; and without much enthusiasm Bob ducked his head and crawled through. Past the two-foot wall was a passage, more than head-high and about a yard in width, stone walled and arched, that led straight ahead farther than the light of the lantern penetrated. The walls were dry, but the earthen floor was damp to the touch. There was a musty odor, though the air in there seemed fresh.

“Where do you suppose it goes to?” asked Bob, in a hushed voice.

“I can’t imagine. But it runs straight back from the cellar, and so it must pass under the garden. Let’s – let’s go on, Bob.”

“Sure! Only I thought we were going to find old Coventry’s treasure!”

“How do you know we aren’t?” asked Laurie.

“That’s so! Maybe he buried it under the garden.” Their footfalls sounded clearly on the hard-packed earth floor as they went ahead. Suddenly Bob, in the lead, uttered an exclamation, and Laurie jumped a foot and then hurried forward to where the other was standing. Beside him, its point buried in the floor of the tunnel, was the lost crowbar!

“What do you know?” gasped Bob. “We’re under the farther end of the arbor. That bar came through between those stones up here.” He touch the crevice in the arched roof with a finger. “See the dirt it brought down with it? Well, that explains that mystery!”

“Yes, but – where does this thing go to, Bob?”

“Let’s find out. It can’t go much farther, because the arbor was only about forty feet from the back fence.”

But they went that forty feet and perhaps forty more before the wavering light of the lantern showed them a stout wooden door across their path. Formed of two-inch planking and strengthened with three broad cleats, it was hinged to a frame of concrete. It wasn’t a big door, but it looked very formidable to the two boys who stood there and viewed it dubiously in the yellow glare of the lantern; for a big square iron lock held it firmly in place.

“Guess we don’t go any farther,” said Bob, dryly.

“Maybe the key’s here somewhere,” Laurie suggested; and, although Bob scoffed at the suggestion, they searched thoroughly but without success.

“We could bust it,” Bob said; “only maybe we haven’t any right to.”

“I don’t see why not, Bob. We discovered it. Let’s!”

“We-ell, but one of us’ll have to go for a hammer or something.”

“Sure; I’ll go.”

“And leave me here in the dark? I guess not!”

“We’ll both go, then. Hold on! What’s the matter with the crowbar?”

“Of course! I never thought of that! I’ll fetch it!” The light receded down the tunnel until it was small and dim, and Laurie, left alone in front of the mysterious portal, felt none too happy. Of course there was nothing to be afraid of, but he was awfully glad when the light drew nearer again and Bob returned. “You hold this,” directed Bob, “and I’ll give it a couple of whacks.”

Laurie took the lantern, and Bob brought the bar down smartly on the lock. Probably it was old and rusty, for it broke into pieces under the blow, and in another instant they had thrust the heavy bolt back. Then Bob took a long breath and pulled the door toward them. The hinges squeaked loudly, startlingly, in the silence. Before them lay darkness, and Laurie, leaning past the doorway, raised the lantern high.

CHAPTER XXIV – A MERRY CHRISTMAS

“Guess Laurie got lost,” grumbled Ned, kicking one foot against the step and looking across the yard.

George laughed. “Guess you could find him if you went as far as the Widow’s, Nid.”

“Well, he ought to be back. It’s nearly time for the tree, isn’t it?” Characteristically, Ned saved himself the trouble of determining the matter for himself, and it was George who looked at his watch.

“There’s ’most an hour yet. Let’s go and have a look for him. He and Bob are probably at Polly’s.”

But they didn’t get as far as Polly’s just then, for when they reached the corner they descried Laurie tearing along the side yard of the Coventry place. At sight of them he moderated his speed slightly and began to shout, waving both hands in a quite demented manner.

“What’s he saying?” asked George. “What’s wrong?”

“Wants us to hurry,” grumbled Ned. “We are hurrying, you idiot!” he continued, raising his voice. But he hurried faster, George at his heels, and met Laurie at the front gate.

“What’s your trouble?” he demanded. “House on fire? Bob got the croup? What is it? Can’t you talk?”

“Can’t tell you,” panted Laurie. “You’ve got to see – for yourself! Come on!”

He seized Ned by one arm, and pulled him away and around the house and down the bulkhead steps, George loping after them. In the cellar stood Bob, disreputable in his old clothes and adorned with dust and cobwebs, a lighted lantern in one hand.