In another second, they were hammering at the door, but they found it strongly barred, and three or four minutes elapsed—minutes that seemed like centuries—before they got the door down and rushed over the threshold into the hut. One of the detectives opened his dark lantern and flashed a brilliant band of light about the place, while the men stared in astonishment.
For the hut was empty!
They lighted the lamp which stood on a box in one corner and made a more careful examination of the place. Two or three boxes, an old stove, a few cooking utensils, and a rude cot in one corner comprised all the furniture, and one of the detectives, pulling aside the largest box, which stood against the back of the hut, solved the mystery of Nolan’s disappearance.
A passage had been dug in the bank which formed the back of the hut, and the detective, after flashing his dark lantern within, crawled into it without hesitation. In a few moments, they heard the sound of steps outside, and the detective came in again at the door.
“He’s got clear away,” he said; “as well as all the rest who were with him. That tunnel leads off to the left and comes out the other side of this bank.”
Mr. Schofield’s face showed his disappointment.
“It’s too bad,” he said, “that we didn’t know about that tunnel. Then we could have placed a guard at the other end.”
“There were precious few knew about it,” said the detective who had discovered the place. “I’ve been here half a dozen times, and never suspected its existence.”
“Well,” said the train-master, “the only thing we can do is to go home, I guess. We can’t hope to find a man in these woods on a night like this.”
“You knowed that feller who opened th’ door, didn’t you, Mister Schofield?” questioned Jack, as they left the hut.