Part 9 (1/2)
Ahead was a watery pa.s.sageway some ten feet wide and twenty-five feet long, with a ledge running along one side. At the end was a tiny wharf with a rowboat tied to a post.
”This is fantastic!” Joe whispered. ”And it must have been here a long time. Do you suppose it's connected with the Pollitt place?”
”If it is, it could mean old Mr. Pollitt was mixed up with the smugglers!” Frank answered. ”Hey, do you suppose Snattman is his nephew?”
Excited over this possible new angle to the case, Frank and Joe stepped onto the ledge. They dressed, then quietly inched forward. Reaching the wharf, they looked about them as Frank beamed his flashlight on the walls.
”Hold it!” Joe whispered.
Directly ahead was a crude arch in the rock. Beyond it, the boys could see a steep flight of stone steps.
Their hearts pounded with excitement.
”We've found it!” Frank whispered. ”This must be the secret pa.s.sageway!”
”Yes,” Joe agreed, ”and from the distance we've come I'd figure that we're right underneath the house on the cliff.” ”Let's go up.”
The light cast strange shadows in the pa.s.sage through the rocks. Water dripped from the walls. The boys tiptoed forward and stealthily began the ascent.
As they crept up the stairs, Frank flashed the light ahead of them. Shortly they could see that the steps ended at a heavy door. Its framework was set into the wall of rock. Above them was only a rocky ceiling.
When Frank and Joe reached the door, they hesitated. Both were thinking, ”If we go through that door and find the gang of smugglers, we'll never get out. But, on the other hand, we must find Dad!”
Frank stepped forward, pressed his ear against the door, and listened intently. There was not a sound beyond.
He turned off his light and looked carefully around the sides of the door to see if he could catch a glimmer of any illumination from the other side. There was only darkness.
”I guess there's no one inside,” he said to Joe. ”Let's see if we can open it.”
Frank felt for the latch. The door did not move. ”It must be locked,” he whispered.
”Try it again. Maybe it's just stuck.”
Frank put his hand on the latch, this time also pus.h.i.+ng the door with his shoulder. Suddenly, with a noise which echoed from wall to wall, the latch snapped and the door swung open.
Joe stepped forward, but Frank put out a restraining hand. ”Wait!” he cautioned. ”That noise may bring someone.”
Tensely, they stood alert for the slightest sound. But none came. Hopeful that there was no one in the area beyond, Frank switched on the flashlight.
The vivid beam cut the darkness and revealed a gloomy cave hewn out of the rock in the very center of the cliff. The boys wondered if it had been a natural cave. It was filled with boxes, bales, and packages distributed about the floor and piled against the walls.
”Smuggled goods!” Frank and Joe thought.
The fact that the majority of the boxes bore labels of foreign countries seemed to verify their suspicions.
Convinced that the cave was unoccupied, the boys stepped through the doorway and looked about for another door or opening. They saw none. Was this the end of the trail?
”But it couldn't be,” the young sleuths thought. ”Those men went some place.”
Bolts of beautiful silk had been tossed on top of some of the bales. Valuable tapestries were also lying carelessly around. In one corner four boxes were piled on top of one another. Frank accidentally knocked the flashlight against one of these and it gave forth a hollow sound.
”It's empty,” he whispered.
An idea struck him that perhaps these boxes had been piled up to conceal some pa.s.sage leading out of the secret storeroom. He mentioned his suspicion to Joe.
”But how could the men pile the boxes up there after they went out?” his brother questioned.
”This gang is smart enough for anything. Let's move these boxes away and maybe we'll find out.”
Frank seized the topmost box. It was very light and he removed it from the pile without difficulty.
”I thought so!” Frank said with satisfaction. The flashlight had revealed the top of a door which had been hidden from view.
The boys lost no time in moving the other three boxes. Then Frank and Joe discovered how it was possible for the boxes to be piled up in such a position, in spite of the fact that the smugglers had left the cave and closed the door behind them.
Attached to the bottom of the door was a thin wooden platform that projected out over the floor of the cave and on this the boxes had been piled.
”Very clever,” Joe remarked. ”Whenever any one leaves the cave and closes the door, the boxes swing in with the platform and it looks as though they were piled up on the floor.”
”Right. Well, let's see where the door leads,” Frank proposed.
He snapped off his light and with utmost caution opened the door. It made no sound. Again there was darkness ahead.
”What a maze!” Frank whispered as he turned on his flash and beamed the light ahead.
Another stone-lined pa.s.sage with a flight of steps at the end!
Suddenly Frank stiffened and laid a warning hand on his brother's arm. ”Voices!” he said in a low tone and snapped off his light.
The boys listened intently. They could hear a man's voice in the distance. Neither could distinguish what he was saying, for he was still too far away, but gradually the tones grew louder. Then, to the brothers'
alarm, they heard footsteps. Hastily they retreated into the secret cave.
”Quick! The door!” Frank urged.
They closed it quietly.
”Now the boxes. If those men come in here they'll notice that the boxes have been moved!” He turned on the light but s.h.i.+elded it with his hand.
Swiftly Joe piled the empty boxes back onto the platform that projected from the bottom of the door. He worked as silently and quickly as possible, but could hear the footsteps drawing closer and closer.
Finally the topmost box was in place.
”Out the other door!” Frank hissed into Joe's ear.
They sped across the floor of the cave toward the door opening onto the stairs they had recently ascended. But hardly had they reached it before they heard a rattle at the latch of the door on the opposite side of the cave.