The Spruce Street Tragedy; or, Old Spicer Handles a Double Mystery

One or two of the shanties were set well back against a side hill, and into the largest of these Pete conducted his companions.

The place contained two good-sized rooms, one a general living-room, and the other a bedroom.

The first was empty, the other occupied, as was evident, when a woman's voice, in querulous tones, demanded to know who was there.

"It's me, Mag," answered Pete. "Don't fret yourself."

"Don't fret myself! You uneasy, restless villain; you're enough to fret a saint. What're you up to at this time o' night, anyway? Why ain't ye at home and in bed, where you ought to be?"

"I've got business to attend to, and some friends to look after; I shall stow them away inside for twenty-four hours. There's plenty of food in there, I suppose?"

"I suppose there is. If there ain't there ought to be, and that's all I know about it."

"And beds fit to sleep on?"

"How many is there with you?"

"Three."

"Then there are beds enough, so that each one can have two. And now will you let me go to sleep, Pete Coffey?"

"Yes, unless you want a little taste of the Bouncing Betsey's West Indian rum."

"The Bouncing Betsey! West Indian rum, eh? Bring it right here, Pete, like a good fellow."

"I'm coming, my dear."

"That's right, come on. Oh! a friend in need is a friend indeed. I was just longing for some good, pure spirits; and now, here you come to me, like an angel of mercy!"

By this time Pete was in the bedroom and had found his way to the side of the bed.

"Where is it, Pete?" asked the old woman, eagerly stretching out her hand.

He handed her one of several bottles the captain had given him just before he had got into his boat.

She uncorked it and placed the nozzle to her lips; then she took a good, long, hearty pull.

"There! let up!" exclaimed Pete, at last.

But it was hard to induce the old gal to take her lips from the bottle after she had once got them fastened to it.

Pete, understanding the situation, waited patiently, and when at length she stopped to breathe, drew the bottle gently away.

She resigned it with a sigh.

"Good-night, Mag. Sorry I can't leave it with you," and Pete returned to those who were modestly waiting in the other room.

CHAPTER XXV.

A SURPRISE PARTY

Pete Coffey now took up a kerosene lamp and some matches, but he did not strike a light.

He dropped down on his knees at the back of the cabin, and ran his hand over the boards.

Presently he shoved one aside, and then another, and another.

"Now, one of you come here," he said.

Barney was quickly at his side.

"Let me aim you right," said Pete, "and then crawl ahead on your hands and knees for at least twenty feet before you rise."

Barney started ahead, doing the "baby act" very creditably.

"Come, Bissell, hurry up," said Pete, impatiently, and dropping down beside him, Bissell endeavored to peer into the black darkness beyond.

"What devil's hole is this?" he asked, suspiciously.

"It may be the devil's hole, as you say," answered Pete. "In fact, I have sometimes thought it was myself. At all events, the devil takes better care of his own in there than I've ever known him to do anywhere else; and so, if you really want to escape your enemies, you'd better be getting in, for I don't propose to fool all my time away on you to-night, I can tell you."

Bissell followed after Barney without another word.

Bill Bunce needed no admonition. He had been familiar with dark holes for the better part of his life, and had a particularly friendly feeling for them, and so he followed on after Bissell, keeping close behind him.

Pete, as soon as there was room for him to do so, entered the hole, and having carefully replaced the boards he had slipped aside, lighted his lamp, and holding it up to the roof of the low tunnel, cast its rays ahead, so that Barney could see when it was safe for him to rise.

"Ah!" exclaimed Barney, starting to his feet, "this is something like a hiding place."

The rays of Pete's light had shown him an extensive cavern, hollowed out of the granite rock, of which all that portion of the New England coast is composed.

Speedily he was joined by his companions, and a hasty examination of the chamber took place.

It was large enough to contain twenty or thirty men, and there were accommodations for at least a dozen. The place was also supplied with edibles, and Pete hinted that there was something stronger than water stowed away in one dark recess, "of which, thank God, old Mag knew nothing."

"If she did, I reckon it wouldn't be there long," laughed Barney.

"That's it, the old gal hasn't many failings, but one of 'em is an over-fondness for hard stuff."

After some time spent in talking over the situation, Pete intimated that the travelers might like to get a little rest, and said he would go out and reconnoiter.

The lamp had been placed on a projecting piece of rock that served as a shelf, and with only his knowledge of the place to guide him, Pete started for the entrance.

He could not have had more than time enough to reach the cabin, when the sound of excited voices came back to the fugitives through the tunnel, which served the purpose of a speaking tube.

"Seized? the Bouncing Betsey seized? By whom, in the demon's name?"

It was Pete who asked the question, there could be no doubt of that.