“It sure is,” and Bill Dunn peered over an old well curb and looked down.
“A well in a cellar! How queer!” exclaimed Landon. “I never heard of such a thing.”
“Uncommon, but I’ve known of ’em,” said Bill “Looks promising, eh?”
Potter considered. “It may mean something,” he said, thoughtfully. “We’ll have to sound it, somehow.”
“Sound it, nothin’!” said the executive Bill; “I’ll go down.”
“How?” Potter asked him. “There’s no bucket. It’s probably a dried up well.”
“Prob’ly,” and Bill nodded. He already had one foot over the broken old well curb.
“Wait, for heaven’s sake!” cried Landon. “Don’t jump down! You must have a light.”
“Got one,” and Bill drew a small flashlight from his pocket.
With the agility of a monkey he clambered down the side of the old well. The stones were large and not smoothly fitted, so that he had little trouble in gaining and keeping his foothold.