“Why, it’s a tunnel!” exclaimed Sally. “A great, long tunnel, winding away. I can’t even see how far it goes. Did you ever?”
The two girls stood looking at each other and at the opening in a maze of incredulous speculation. Suddenly Sally uttered a satisfied cry.
“I know! I know, now! We never could think where all the rest of the wood from the Anne Arundel went. It’s right here!” It was evidently true. The tunnel had been lined, top and bottom and often at the sides with the same planking that had lined the cave and at intervals there were stout posts supporting the roof of it. Well and solidly had it been constructed in that long ago period, else it would never have remained intact so many years.
“Doris,” said Sally presently, “where do you suppose this leads to?”
“I haven’t the faintest idea,” replied her friend, “except that it probably leads to the treasure or the secret, or whatever it is. That much I’m certain of now.”
“So am I,” agreed Sally, “but, here’s the important thing. Are we to go in there and find it?”
Doris shrank back an instant. “Oh, I don’t know!” she faltered. “I’m not sure whether I dare to—or whether Mother would allow me to—if she knew. It—it might be dangerous. Something might give way and bury us alive.”
“Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” announced Sally courageously. “I’ll take a candle and go in a way by myself and see what it’s like. You stay here with Genevieve, and I’ll keep calling back to you, so you needn’t worry about me.” Before Doris could argue the question with her, she had lighted another candle and stepped bravely into the gloom.
Doris, at the opening, watched her progress nervously, till a turn in the tunnel hid her from sight.
“Oh, Sally, do come back!” she called. “I can’t stand this suspense!”