When all that were loose had been either pulled out or pushed in, he found there was an aperture large enough to permit a man’s body to pass through, and without hesitation, he scrambled through it.
His flashlight showed him that almost from the start the hole widened until it became a fair-sized tunnel. Crawling along this for a hundred yards or so, he heard the splash of water, and soon he no longer needed his flashlight, as daylight streamed in through a narrow fissure in the rock.
It was fortunate for Wise that it did, for just ahead the tunnel descended sharply, and at the bottom, what was evidently the surf was surging in from the ocean.
It was quite dark below, and being unable to progress further, Wise backed out of the tunnel, it wasn’t wide enough to turn around in, and reaching the well again, he ascended to the surface.
He went to his room, looked with satisfaction on the numerous smears of green and brown that disfigured his suit,—which he had taken care should be an old one.
No one knew what he had done, nor did any one know his destination when, half an hour later, he set off for the village.
He went to the inn and inquired where he could get the best motor boat that could be hired.
A suitable one was found and its owner agreed to take Wise on an exploring expedition at the next low tide. This would not be until the following morning, so the detective went back to Headland House.
Then, he concentrated all his efforts and attention on the subject of the moving picture film that had been said to portray Betty Varian.
“Rod Granniss vows it was really Betty,” Zizi insisted.