The Mercer Boys at Woodcrest

by Capwell Wyckoff

He was now in a state of anxious perplexity. It would be possible to hide somewhere and wait for a more opportune moment, but he hated to lose time and it was a risk in itself. No doubt the old man knew every nook and corner in Clanhammer Hall, and his hiding place, wherever he might find one, would not serve him at all. It was while he was puzzling over his problem that he thought of the third floor and a possible escape along the roof.

There must be a third floor of some sort in the building and he turned his attention to finding stairs. After a time he located a door in the rear of the hall and when he had opened it a flight of abrupt steps was disclosed to him. He listened for a moment before ascending, not wishing to walk straight into someone on the third floor, but there was no sound from above, and after closing the door carefully behind him he began to climb, listening intently. He gained the top of the boxed-in flight and looked around him.

He was in a general hall which ran the length of the building and from which doors opened on either side. It occurred to him that when Clanhammer Hall was the main and only building of Woodcrest School some of the students boarded at the school and some of them down in the town. The first floor must of necessity have been given over to the dining room, kitchen and offices, the second floor to the classrooms and this third floor to the few dormitory rooms which the old school boasted. There were at least twenty small rooms opening off the hall in which he stood, and it was in these rooms that the few fortunate students lived. No doubt the seniors or third class men slept there and the lower class men were compelled to put up at friendly boardinghouses near by. The doors were warped and initial-scarred, and faint yellow numbers still showed on them.

At each end of the hall two windows allowed light to enter, and they were the only openings with the exception of a rusted skylight directly overhead. He walked to the windows facing the new buildings of the school and looked out, to find that no shed or roof was underneath. Nothing but a sheer drop was before him, and help from that source was out of the question. There was a new possibility which entered his head as he looked out on Clinton Hall and a corner of Locke. If the worst came to pass he would try to signal to some of the cadets, none of whom seemed to be around at the present moment. Glancing at his watch Don saw that it was yet too early for them to be stirring, and no signals were likely to be seen for some time.

He then made his way to the windows at the opposite end, stopping at the stairs to listen, but no sound broke the stillness and he went on. Those two windows overlooked a portion of the lake and the gate at the end of the school grounds and the deserted edges of the woods. There would be no help in that direction, either.

“Looks like I’d have to set the place on fire to get out,” he grumbled. “Now I’ll look into some of these old dormitories.”

He began to try the knobs on the doors but to his disappointment every door was tightly locked. This puzzled him. All of the rooms on the second floor were unlocked and open, but these rooms had been carefully closed up. He felt sure that there was nothing in them, and why anyone should be particular enough to lock them he could not see. He had tried them all and in haste, so that one feature of a certain room escaped his attention. In the center of the hall was one room which, judging by the distance between doors, was larger than others, and this door, he subsequently discovered, was locked with a special lock on the outside.

The other and smaller rooms had been locked with a key in the ordinary manner, but the large dormitory room had been fitted with a padlock on the outside and was locked in that manner. He stopped and looked through the keyhole, but his vision was limited to a blank wall on the other side of the room. Then he sniffed, his attention growing as he did so. After a time he realized someone in that room was smoking tobacco. He could smell it plainly.

His first impulse was to flee and then he stopped to consider, his gaze fixed on the lock. Whoever was in that room was a prisoner. It was plain that the padlock was meant for business. He tried it, pulling at it with all his strength, but it was tightly locked and his efforts were useless. Bending down, he once more examined it, and then, satisfied that he could remove it with his knife, began to work at it.

There was a sudden movement in the room as he started to work, but Don paid no attention, and as no one spoke he did not waste his time in speech. The lock itself was screwed into the door, and the screws were so placed that his knife blade, blunted by much use, formed a screw driver that was effective. He did not have any unusual difficulty and the screws came out readily enough under his urging. With patience and speed he extracted four of the screws and the lock hung open, the portion on the post being freed. Hoping that the lock under the knob had not also been turned Don tried the door handle. To his relief it turned and the door opened.