“Well, now,” he said, “this is just what I need! This will cover my traveling expenses very nicely—with plenty left over besides.” He picked up the bills and pushed them into his pocket, and then came back to scoop up the coins. “You boys have been very helpful. Very helpful. And since you’ve gone to all the trouble of carting this heavy stuff upstairs for me, I might as well take it along, too. There’s always some sucker antique dealer along the road who will give me a few bucks for it.”
Bill took a step forward, but stopped when Caldwell’s gun came up. “You sure have had us fooled, Mr. Caldwell,” Bill said. “And we sure were fools to have trusted you.”
“Yea, sure, kid.” Caldwell seemed a little puzzled by what Bill had said. “Well, enough of this. It’ll take me an hour to get loaded and hit the road.” He swung the light around, searching for something. It stopped when he found the open trap door leading down to the culvert.
“O.K., you kids,” he ordered. “Supposing you climb back down into the cellar.”
Ronnie’s eyes widened as he gathered the full intent of the order. “You—you’re not going to lock us up down there?” he gasped.
“I sure am, kid. You don’t think I’m going to turn you loose so you can bring the whole neighborhood after me, do you? I need plenty of time to get this stuff out of here and to hit the road. Now get moving—all of you.”
Ronnie stood his ground. “I won’t go,” he said stubbornly. “Why, we’d never get out of there. Nobody would ever find us,” he added.
“Well, now, isn’t that too bad!” Caldwell sneered. “Now move before I push you down—if that’s the way you want it.”
“We’d better go,” Bill said.
They filed dejectedly toward the opening in the floor. Bill went first and Ronnie followed. Before taking his turn, Phil turned to Caldwell. “How about paying us for bringing the stuff up anyway, huh?” he asked.